If At First You Don't Succeed
by UMdancer98
Summary: Kirik is back and he will not be denied victory in his fight against Robin. Sequel to "Redefining Robin" so you should definitely read that one first.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have written two versions of this story; they are almost exactly the same until the middle of Chapter 11. This one is the "lighter" of the two, although it depends on your definition of that concept. But I can definitely tell you that the other version is "darker". So, if you want something "darker", don't read this one. Or, if you don't care either way and like repetition in a story, read both! ;-) Thanks to all my readers for continuing to give me feedback, ideas and suggestions!

Also, thanks to TooManyFandomsandSmolBeans, Blas, Carl, Batman Dude, Owan, Ashie and Carrie for your reviews of "Glimpse"!

Finally, thanks to Blas, Owan, Carl, Theweirdpartyer and Carrie for your reviews of "Robin's Bad Night"!

As usual, Batman and Robin are loosely based off the 1960s TV show but go back and forth between genres and are sometimes completely out of any characterization. I write it the way it enters my head, which is not always "historically" accurate. Italics usually represent thoughts to oneself but are sometimes used to add emphasis. Thanks for reading!

 **Prologue:**

Kirik was on the ground, Bat-cuffs tight around his wrists and ankles. He glared at the sidekick, who was huddled in a ball less than five feet away and smirking at him. _Don't look so smug, Boy Wonder, we're not done yet. Next time there won't be any traitorous henchmen or heroic Batman. It'll be me and you, far away from here in a place that nobody will ever be able to find. I_ _ **will**_ _break you, Robin, even if it takes the rest of my life…._

* * *

 **Chapter 1:**

 **14 months later**

"Robin, go, don't wait for me, just…go…" Batman was gasping as he ordered his partner away from the gas billowing throughout the small room.

"I'm not leaving you, Batman, so save your breath!" Robin shouted in reply, searching through the fog for his partner. He was unexpectedly hit with a serious sense of déjà vu but decided that it was just the fumes fooling around with his brain.

"Go…" Batman whispered as he began following the black snakes that invaded his head.

Robin's eyes were burning and his vision was darkening. He had to find Batman and get them out of here but he couldn't see or hear anything anymore. Abruptly, he lost his fight with the gas and, just before slipping into darkness, heard a vaguely familiar voice:

"I'm back, Robin, and this time you _will_ break."

* * *

Kirik grinned from the safety of the warehouse manager's office. The second version of the drug he had previously used on the Dynamic Duo was much more powerful than the first. Robin hadn't even had time to _find_ Batman, much less try to rescue him. Allowing his drug to be tinkered with during his last two months in Arkham was paying off – even though the tinkering had been done by someone else.

* * *

 **Two months ago:**

Security had become relatively lax around the prisoner who, so far, had posed no threat. His behavior and obedience gave the guards no reason to suspect anything was amiss. The man had been in maximum security at Arkham for a year and Warden Crichton had decided to allow him to begin to mingle with a few other prisoners. The warden was working on a rehabilitation program and social interaction was an important part of that. Only two or three criminals were allowed to be together at any one time and their activities were closely monitored.

And so it was on a sunny, Thursday afternoon that the man known as Kirik was allowed to freely roam around the narrow but lengthy maximum security prison yard with the villain known as Scarecrow strolling beside him. Wispy, white clouds occasionally drifted across the bright sun and the only place to stay relatively cool was in the shade under the tall, heavily guarded tower in the northwest corner of the enclosure. It also happened to be the only blind spot in the entirety of Arkham – a small oversight by the security company that had been contracted to install the video cameras, microphones and other such equipment. Scarecrow, having been in the program for almost eight months, knew this. Kirik, never having been allowed more than a few yards away from the prison door, did not.

It was by lucky happenstance that these two men had been chosen to interact with each other on that particular day and Kirik intended to take advantage of it. He wanted to find out more about the man that everyone called "the master of fear". Well, to be honest, he wanted to find out more about the _drugs_ that the man was famous for creating.

Glancing sideways at the man beside him, Scarecrow inquired, "Are you warm? There is an _excellent_ shady spot on the other side of the yard." The slight emphasis on that specific word hinted at something and Kirik nodded without looking at him.

They sauntered nonchalantly toward the sheltered corner and, upon their arrival, Scarecrow asked, "Do you know what a 'blind spot' is, Kirik?"

Kirik was startled that the man knew his name. Looking straight into Scarecrow's eyes, Kirik replied, "Yes, but I have yet to find one in _this_ place." He swept his left arm toward the forbidding prison walls to demonstrate his point.

"Welcome to the blind spot," Scarecrow grinned as he sat down on the prickly, weedy grass. Patting the patch of yellow beside him, he continued, "I've heard about your exploits with the Caped Crusaders but I don't know all the details. Would you like to fill me in? Maybe I have something that can help you in your quest for revenge. I'm assuming that's why you are almost always by yourself with that brooding expression – your mind is occupied with finding ways to seek revenge."

Carefully avoiding the stickers on his left side, Kirik grumbled, "Isn't everybody?" and joined the villain on the ground. He was going to start at the beginning of the long story but Scarecrow quickly shook his head when he realized what was about to happen.

"The short version, if you please. We don't have all day out here and we don't want to be out of sight for very long." Scarecrow sighed in disappointment as he stated, "Every four or five minutes we need to get up and take a walk to keep this area safe from the warden's knowledge."

Kirik nodded again and gave him the short version, leaving out the most embarrassing details – like his broken nose and being run down by a boy with a fractured leg. The _kid_ who was no longer supposed to be a hero.

"Robin," Scarecrow laughed. "Many people have tried many things and now you are included in that group. He's called the 'Boy Wonder' for a reason, you know. Well, of course you know now," he chuckled as he stood up.

The other man took the hint and arose. Together they walked across the yard and talked about nothing. After a few minutes of collecting sweat on their clothes, they meandered back to the cozy corner and sat down again.

"I _have_ to take him down!" Kirik immediately growled and Scarecrow held up his hand.

"As I said before, I may be able to help you," the man smiled. "I have connections with many other villains. Most of us are in and out of here at least two or three times a year. You, however, are a newbie and know nothing about anything. So, instead of grumbling about failure, just listen."

"Two or three times a year?" Kirik was confused.

The master of fear laughed again, "I forget that you are very new to Gotham City. We escape, the Dynamic Duo catches us, we escape and the cycle continues."

Kirik was staring at him in astonishment and Scarecrow shook his head. "You really don't know anything about them, do you?"

"Well…I…" Kirik sputtered, trying to prove himself to the villain, "I did my research!"

"Research?" Scarecrow rolled his eyes. "There is no 'research' that can prepare you for a confrontation with _Batman and Robin_! There is nothing like meeting them in real life, until you do. Shall we stroll?"

Reluctantly, they stood up and ambled around, a little slower than they had before.

"Slow walking equals the ability to chat for a longer period of time," Scarecrow's voice was low and his mouth wasn't even moving.

Back to the corner they went and this time Kirik plopped onto the ground, frustrated. If this man, and all the other dangerous villains in this prison, couldn't do anything to defeat Robin, why should he expect himself to do any better? His plan had been foolproof last year and still it had failed.

"You want to know his greatest weakness…or am I incorrect in my thinking?" Scarecrow interrupted Kirik's depressing thoughts. The latter villain stared at the former for a moment.

"No, you're right," he mumbled. How did this man know so much about him?

"Somehow he can withstand an abnormal amount of physical pain for such a young boy. It gets to him, of course, but he won't be sobbing or begging you to stop until, maybe, all the bones in his little body are broken. I don't know; nobody has ever been able to do it. Joker has gone far enough to make tears stream down the boy's face and cries of pain escape from his mouth but the kid didn't even come close to giving up. Trust me, Joker would brag about it every day if he had been able to make _Robin_ beg for mercy or finally decide to surrender."

Kirik growled and replied, "Apparently he can make it through four days of mental pain, also, because I piled that on thick. I've _never_ not broken someone but he just kept running his mouth and smirking and…" he trailed off as memories of his failure filled his mind.

"What about Batman?" Scarecrow asked and Kirik frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You told me that Batman was there with him, watching everything that was happening and continually working to escape. Don't you think that might have _helped_ Robin? Having his partner there to keep his spirits up?" Scarecrow was genuinely curious about Kirik's decision to have both heroes in the same room but only trying to break one of them.

"It was part of the plan," Kirik grumbled. "I thought having Batman watch him fail or beg or _something_ would break him quicker."

"Well, that certainly didn't happen, did it?" Scarecrow laughed as he rose for the third time in fifteen minutes. Kirik rolled his eyes and they went for a walk.

* * *

From a window opposite the shaded area of the yard, a tall guard with shockingly bright red hair and biceps the size of large baseballs was watching the duo. He knew about the blind spot, he was the one that had made sure it was there. He was baffled, however, by Scarecrow's interest in the new guy. The rookie prisoner obviously wasn't a _real_ villain; the guard had never even heard the name "Kirik".

Shrugging, the big man walked down the gray-walled hall and turned right, heading to the medical wing. A prisoner had been slightly nauseous since yesterday morning, although not enough to require a bed in the infirmary. As a result, the nurse was currently in minimum-security cell block G, dispensing some medication. Both beds were empty; the guard had the room to himself so he began grabbing ingredients and supplies. If Scarecrow wanted the new guy out, the red-haired man would make sure he got out. Carefully putting everything back the way it was, with a few things missing, the guard walked out of the medical room and went to take his lunch break. It would soon be time to make the sleeping drug again.

* * *

"So," Scarecrow continued as they sat down again, "what about Batman?"

Kirik raised his eyebrows; they had just talked about this. "Like I said," there was a touch of frustration in his voice, "I thought it would break him quicker."

"That's not what I mean, newbie. Think about it for a minute. What. About. Batman?"

There was a long pause as Kirik stared at the ground and thought about the older half of the Dynamic Duo. He was stronger, smarter, better and more resilient than the younger half in every way. So why was Scarecrow asking about him? If Kirik couldn't break the sidekick, why would the villain think he could take down the actual hero?

Scarecrow rolled his eyes and sighed. Was he really going to help _this guy_ escape? The man couldn't even figure out what he was talking about!

"I'm not telling you that you should try to take out Batman," the villain read the other man's expression perfectly and was disappointed. "Think harder. Do they have a connection, a bond with each other?"

Suddenly, the lightbulb in his head flipped on and Kirik got it. He looked up at Scarecrow and asked, "Batman is his biggest weakness?" Confident that his question was actually the answer, Kirik slowly began to grin as they stood up again.

 _Finally!_ Scarecrow nodded in relief and they ambled around quickly this time. "You want Robin? I can get you out of here," Scarecrow said when they returned to the blind spot. "I can also improve your little gas substance, knock the Boy Wonder out after only a minute or two as opposed to the five that it took last time you used it on him."

"How did you..." Kirik began to ask but Scarecrow held up his right hand.

"You'd be surprised at the things we find out about in this place. Now, do you want to get out or not?"

"Yes, of course, but how is that going to happen? And, since this is the only blind spot, where are we going to work on my drug? And…"

He was interrupted again. "Details, minor details," Scarecrow replied. "Leave everything to me. I do need to know the ingredients in your formula, though. And it won't be 'we' working on it. I work alone when it comes to drugs. If you want to get out, and get to Robin, you do it my way. Are we clear?"

Kirik was a little disappointed that he wouldn't be able to tinker with his own drug but he nodded. "As a bell," he answered. "How will I know when it's time?" The excitement began to overrule the disappointment and he was suddenly shaking in anticipation.

"Calm down, newbie," Scarecrow rolled his eyes again. "It's not going to happen tomorrow! These things take time and patience. So, now is a good time to practice your patience skills, especially since you will be attempting to break the Boy Wonder. Many have tried to get to Batman through Robin but I've never heard of anyone trying to get to Robin through Batman. It should be interesting. I'll be watching carefully so don't disappoint me. Actually," he grinned while pointing to the windows high above them, "don't disappoint _us_."

Kirik glanced up and saw a plethora of faces glaring down at them from the windows in the maximum-security section. A slight shudder ran down his body when he thought of what the crazy villains in Arkham might do to him if they were "disappointed".


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Blas, Batman Dude, Owan, Carl and Ashie!

I forgot to mention that there are tiny references to several other stories throughout this entire story. However, it's not necessary to read any of the others (except, of course, "Redefining Robin"). You should, though. ;)

 **Chapter 2:**

 **Present time:**

Kirik didn't have his gas-retriever this time so he waited for the smoke to dissipate before putting on a mask and quickly striding to the unconscious body of the Boy Wonder. A quiet laugh escaped from his mouth when he realized that Robin had dropped to the ground three feet away from Batman. What was it with the kid and giving up three feet away from his intended target? There would be no pictures of his failures this time; Robin had overcome everything Kirik had thrown at him before. He bent down, grabbed the limp form of the sidekick and flipped it over his left shoulder.

"Goodbye, Batman," Kirik whispered then turned and walked out the door without looking back. Sliding the boy's body into the backseat of his inconspicuous brown sedan, the villain grabbed a small device out of his back pocket. He pressed the blue button on the side and waited, listening carefully.

A large fan inside the small building began to spin and soon the dust on the floor was flying everywhere. The button was pushed again, the noise faded, the speed of the fan decreased and the dust began to settle. Kirik grinned; now there would be no trail for Batman to follow.

* * *

 **Seventeen minutes later:**

Batman awoke with a groan of pain and a nauseating headache. He put a hand on his head and carefully sat up. _What happened?_ Sweeping the room with his eyes, he slowly stood and searched his brain for any recent memories. _Robin, where's Robin?_

"Robin!" he tried to shout but his throat was dry and his voice sounded scratchy. An image of a masked figure floated through his brain and Batman remembered hearing the voice of his young partner, yelling at him to save his breath. That seemed familiar but he couldn't figure out why.

 _Beep beep._ The short sound of his Bat-communicator startled him and he grabbed it out of his utility belt.

"Batman here," he said sharply.

"An urgent message from Commissioner Gordon, sir," Alfred was careful not to use any identifying words. "He wants you to call him right away."

A feeling of dread settled into Batman's chest. "What is it about?"

"I was not given a detailed account, sir. Commissioner Gordon wished to speak to you, and _only_ you, about it."

"Yes, of course," Batman growled.

" _Only_ you, sir," Alfred paused and cleared his throat. "The commissioner strongly emphasized that word, which I assume implies that he does not want your young partner to hear whatever it is he has to tell you, sir."

Batman briefly pondered the implication. Why would the commissioner want to keep a secret from Robin? Setting that thought aside for now, the hero replied, "Unfortunately, it might not be difficult to honor that request. We were knocked out – some sort of gas – almost immediately after we entered the building. I just woke up and I don't see Robin anywhere but I haven't had a chance to look around yet."

"Perhaps, sir, after you have finished your search…" Alfred's worried request was interrupted.

"I'll call you either way. Batman out."

The warehouse the Dynamic Duo had obviously been tricked into investigating consisted of one square room and a manager's office. There was an oversized fan in the corner by the back door but no crates, machines or anything else of importance. It didn't take long for Batman to complete a thorough sweep of the area. There were no places to hide anything except the miniature office and that only contained a large, metal filing cabinet. He opened each drawer, even though they were too short for even Robin's small body, only to discover that they were all empty.

No Robin, not even a sign of Robin. No blood, no trail of footprints appearing on the dirt of the cement floor, nothing. Batman called Alfred as he raced to the Batmobile and reported his finding – well, lack thereof – then picked up the extension of the Batphone. The commissioner was slow to answer and Batman began impatiently drumming his fingers on the dashboard of the Batmobile.

"Batman, thank heavens! I..." it was the commissioner's turn to be interrupted by the Caped Crusader.

"Details please, Commissioner," Batman demanded.

Commissioner Gordon was a little surprised by the urgency in Batman's voice. Did the hero already have the information about the man who had escaped, the man who had almost taken Robin out of the hero business a little over a year ago? The commissioner didn't know all the details of that incident; it was obvious that Batman had left some out of the story he had told the police. However, the expressions and body language of the younger half of the Dynamic Duo had made it relatively easy to fill in the gaps.

The Boy Wonder had been quiet – that by itself was unusual. The easygoing grin that usually resided on his face had disappeared. Instead, there was a noticeable frown of what could only be described as despair. The sparkling blue eyes that were constantly radiating energy had been replaced by gray circles full of regret. The young crime-fighter, who was always standing tall and proud, had looked like a lost little boy in a room full of adults.

Whatever had happened at that cabin, though, Robin had been strong enough to overcome it. The boy had proven that when he had chased down the villain while running on a fractured leg and bleeding from a knife wound in his side. The commissioner remembered the shocked look on Chief O'Hara's face when he was describing the scene behind the station. Robin had taken off before Batman had even risen from the curb of the sidewalk! How the Boy Wonder could fit all that strength and determination into that little body would forever be a mystery to every member of the Gotham City Police Department.

Commissioner Gordon hoped that the Caped Crusaders were sitting in the Batmobile together, both of them safe and sound. He also hoped that the man who usually answered the Batphone had recognized why the commissioner had emphasized the word "only".

"Commissioner!" Batman yelled, anger lacing the tinge of concern in his tone. "Before you tell me what's going on, please explain to me why you don't want Robin to hear this conversation!" The hero's voice became somewhat defensive as he declared, "My partner is perfectly capable of understanding whatever it is you are planning to say!"

"Sorry, Batman," Commissioner Gordon shook himself out of his thoughts. The message had been passed on and the commissioner was relieved. "This is something I thought Robin might need to hear from you."

The slight feeling of dread in Batman's chest swiftly turned into a small ball of apprehension when he heard that statement.

"Do you remember the criminal known as Kirik?" the commissioner continued.

"How could I forget?" Batman growled.

"He escaped from Arkham and, of course, there were no witnesses."

"What?!" Batman was stunned. "He was in maximum security…how…when?" he demanded.

"Yesterday, nobody knows the exact timeline," the commissioner's voice was tight with concern. "Please tell me that Robin is with you."

The answer was the sound of a dial tone and Commissioner Gordon hung up the bright red phone, distress in his eyes. "The Boy Wonder is missing and Batman will rightfully be focused on finding him. Gotham City is on its own. Heaven help us all," he whispered.

* * *

 **Ten days ago:**

The shady spot under the guard tower was once again occupied by two men who had become well acquainted during the last two months.

"It's ready," Scarecrow grinned as he handed a small canister to Kirik. "Don't open it unless you want Robin's fate to be your own instead!" he exclaimed when the other man began twisting the top.

Kirik scowled. How was he going to know it was really in there if he couldn't check it? Scarecrow was, after all, a villain. "Am I supposed to just trust you?" he asked skeptically.

"After all my hard work, you are going to insult me by asking that question?!" Scarecrow nearly yelled. "Why would I improve your formula and allow you to leave if it would immediately result in your capture?! You are going after _Robin_ and Batman gets really irritated when his sidekick is hurt. Do you think you would last through an interrogation by _Batman_?! That's what will happen when he finds you and, through you, he will get to me. Anyone who has helped you in any way will face serious consequences."

Rolling his eyes, Kirik replied, "Are you afraid of Batman? I beat him before…"

Scarecrow quickly interrupted him. "Afraid? No. I would say…hesitant to be on the receiving end of his irritation. Especially when he's feeling that way because something happened to Robin. And no, you didn't _beat_ Batman before; you _worked_ on him. Actually, it wasn't even him that you worked on. Batman is stronger than Robin and you couldn't even break the kid!"

Kirik narrowed his eyes. "Now who is the one doing the insulting?" he inquired in a low, dangerous voice.

It was Scarecrow's turn to roll his eyes. "Okay, let's both just take a breath. You want Robin, I'm helping you get to him. Or are you going to give up because I won't let you open that container?"

Growling in irritation, Kirik replied, "Of course I don't want to give up." There was a long pause and Scarecrow glared at the man expectantly.

Kirik swallowed his pride; the man was, after all, helping him reach his goal. "Sorry," he mumbled, the word laced with frustration.

"Okay," Scarecrow replied with a slight grin. "Now, since I'm helping you, I think you owe me a favor. Don't you agree?"

Rolling his eyes again, mentally this time, Kirik nodded his head. "What do you want?"

"I don't know yet," the veteran villain replied, "but I'll think of something." Abruptly changing the subject, he asked, "Do you want Robin to die?" Everyone wanted Batman dead but Scarecrow didn't know anybody who wanted the sidekick dead. Except, of course, Joker.

Shaking his head, Kirik replied, "I don't want him to _die._ I want him to give up, to realize that he's not strong enough to be a 'hero'. I want him to have to live with that knowledge for the rest of his pathetic little life." The man grinned as he pictured a broken Robin asking Batman to forgive him because of his weakness.

"Well, I think it's settled then. In exactly eight days, at exactly one fifteen in the morning, all the guards in your cell block will decide to take a nap. Except for a muscular, red-haired one; he will 'accidentally' open your cell door and 'unintentionally' lead you to an air vent that will take you to a service tunnel. It's several miles long and ends in the middle of nowhere. After that, you're on your own. You won't see me again; until I escape or you're back in here, anyway." Grinning, and without another word, the villain turned and walked away.

Kirik held up the canister in his right hand. Staring gleefully at the object, he whispered, "I'm coming, Robin!"

* * *

 **Present time:**

Batman hung up the Batphone, in shock and furious. Robin was going to receive the consequences of Warden Crichton's obviously lax security precautions. Kirik had taken his partner to the edge of his limits and now had the ability to try it again. Batman was sure that the villain would be working by himself; Kirik wouldn't risk losing his chance at revenge by hiring henchmen who could betray him. The almost-forgotten events of last year were suddenly as fresh as the rain that was now drenching him as he sat in the Batmobile.

As so often happened when Robin was kidnapped, Batman had no clues or trails to follow. There was a possibility that this villain was more dangerous to the Boy Wonder than even Joker, whose very name brought a slight shudder to his partner's body. Kirik had come incredibly close to reaching his goal the first time he had held the young hero captive. The man undoubtedly wouldn't try the same things he had done before. He also probably had more, perhaps even better, information after being in Arkham with dangerous villains for over a year. Villains who knew Robin well – Joker, Riddler, Two-Face, Penguin and the list went on.

Batman had confidence in his partner but was still worried. Almost as worried as he had been the first time Robin had been taken. The teenager was strong, there was no doubt about that, and Batman hoped that the Boy Wonder was strong _enough_ to last through whatever was about to happen.

* * *

"Wake up, sidekick!" Kirik yelled, annoyed that Robin was still unconscious three hours after the gas had knocked him out.

Robin stirred at the noise and carefully moved his head from side to side. Why did the voice sound only vaguely familiar? He was usually kidnapped by a big-time villain who was trying to get to Batman through him but this voice didn't belong to any of them. The Boy Wonder opened his eyes and saw a cement floor so he lifted his head. There was a dark, slightly blurry face in front of him that he didn't recognize.

Kirik saw the confusion on Robin's face and rolled his eyes in irritation. Either the kid didn't remember him or he was still disoriented from the strong – perhaps a little _too_ strong – gas. He grabbed Robin's chin and roughly shook the boy's head, hoping it would clear his vision.

Robin blinked several times and the blur turned into a face that he had been trying to forget for over a year. A look of alarm flashed through his eyes and panic began gnawing at the edges of his brain. Kirik, who had replaced Joker in several of Robin's nightmares, had somehow escaped maximum security at Arkham and there was no doubt in Robin's mind that the man was working alone this time.

Kirik was smirking at Robin, staring into his eyes and challenging him to try to escape. He saw the recognition followed by the flicker of anxiety and his smirk grew into a grin. The sidekick _did_ remember him and his emotions were already being affected by the situation.

Robin was yelling at himself to get over the fear when he saw the smirk so he met it with one of his own. Kirik would have an advantage if he knew how Robin felt and the Boy Wonder wasn't going to allow that. He stared straight into the man's eyes and began mentally taking stock of his condition.

It was obvious that he was hanging from something, probably the ceiling. His arms were stretched over his head and he could feel at least two cable ties wrapped tightly around his wrists. They were cutting into his skin, causing drops of blood to dribble down the length of his arms before bouncing off his shoulders and landing on the floor. There was also a thick rope circling his wrists several times and he knew if he looked up that it would lead to…whatever was holding his body off the cement floor. He refused to even glance up, however, because that would mean looking away from Kirik and he wasn't about to give up any ground to the man.

Walking his mind down his body, Robin discovered that nothing was restraining him from his shoulders down to his ankles. A pair of handcuffs encircled his ankles, the metal biting into his skin through what was left of the bottoms of his tights. He could feel little beads of blood sliding down his bare feet but it wasn't enough to be alarming. By pointing his toes, he could feel the cool cement and concluded that he was less than a foot off the ground. An experiment was required and Robin slowly stretched his shoulders away from their sockets. He was relieved to learn that he could stand flat on the floor without dislocating anything. There was a minute amount of pain, though, and Robin knew if he stood that way for too long he would eventually feel the familiar 'pop' in both shoulders. Instead, he pushed up to the balls of his feet, easing the stretch while maintaining some control over his body's movements.

The Boy Wonder mentally sighed; the cable ties on his wrists and cuffs on his ankles were too tight to slide out of unless he cut off a hand or a foot. The villain had learned his lesson and it was useless for Robin to try to get out like he had last year. He would only be rubbing his skin off for no helpful reason.

Kirik was watching Robin's face carefully, waiting for him to realize that he was strung up like a piece of meat and had no way to escape. The man had taken the cape, the belt, the gloves, the boots and had almost taken the mask but decided against it. By the time he was done, the boy wouldn't _want_ to be "Robin" anymore and would probably take the mask off himself.

Villain and hero continued to stare at each other in the silence. Both had decided that the other would lose the first contest and, therefore, demonstrate vulnerability. However, both had also begun fidgeting. Robin's athletic muscles were already protesting the lack of movement and Kirik was getting impatient. He wanted to start but was reluctant to concede even a tiny "victory" to the sidekick.

 _Don't show any signs of weakness!_ Robin forced his slightly twitching muscles to relax and tried to ignore the drop of sweat meandering down his nose. The Boy Wonder was used to waiting for something to happen. There had been too many stakeouts to keep track of, not to mention the kidnappings as both Dick Grayson and Robin. The boy was naturally patient and Batman had greatly increased his capacity.

 _Get over it! You're going to win everything else anyway._ Scarecrow's advice about practicing patience had been ignored and Kirik was the one who gave in.

"So, sidekick, here we are again," the villain's words were clipped and malicious. "Are you ready for round two? There are no henchmen to betray me, no Batman to help you and no ingenious ways to get yourself out of your restraints. You taught me a lot last year and I intend to repay the favor."

"There's nothing to repay," Robin retorted angrily while the thrill of a small victory shot through his mind. "I learned several things from you, too, so I guess that makes us even. I see no need for a second round."

"What you do or don't see makes no difference," Kirik snarled, "because the second round has already begun. I also learned some things in Arkham, things about _you_ that I didn't discover in my earlier research."

"I doubt that, I'm such an enigma," Robin replied sarcastically, the previously dominant feeling of panic fading into irritation. "Nobody in Arkham knows anything about me because I'm just the _sidekick_." There was a slight edge of taunting in his voice that Robin knew he probably should have prevented.

Kirik glared at Robin, "I know your greatest weakness, I now understand how to break you. You were so close last year, so close I could _feel_ it, but my idiotic henchmen allowed you to escape. After talking to a very interesting man named Scarecrow, I found out that you can withstand an abnormal amount of physical pain so I'm not going to do _too_ much of that. I'm not very fond of broken bones and bloody bodies anyway. I learned that Joker made you cry, though, and that was a lovely thought that I was able to dwell on before escaping." Kirik closed his stormy gray eyes as if savoring the memory and Robin rolled his blue ones.

"Last year you weathered the mental storm I set on you," the villain continued, opening his eyes and glaring at the boy. "Although I'm pretty sure you were feeling slightly broken before I stabbed you since you didn't say anything to Batman when my knife sliced into your side. I can still feel the stickiness of your blood on my hands," he grinned wickedly.

Robin remembered the sharp pain and the concern in his partner's eyes. Batman had assured him that he wasn't broken, that he was too strong to break. But, the villain did have a point; the Boy Wonder _had_ felt like a failure. However, chasing Kirik for nearly half a mile, and eventually capturing the man, had restored his faith in himself.

"I didn't break," the young hero growled, the words filled with conviction, and he was surprised when Kirik nodded.

"I know, and I was very disappointed. However, as I said before, now I know your greatest weakness. You _will_ break for me this time, sidekick," Kirik stated matter-of-factly. "I have a few things to do but I'll be back soon," he said as he turned and strode toward the open door on the other side of the room. Glancing back just before exiting the building, he declared, "Trying to escape will be a waste of energy – energy that you will soon be wishing you had retained." The villain, brimming with confidence, strutted out the door and slammed it shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Batman Dude, TV Fun Fact and Carl!

 **Chapter 3:**

Batman climbed out of the Batmobile, water dripping from everything as he stepped onto the floor of the Batcave. "Alfred," he called, "the information from the commissioner was about the man named Kirik. He escaped from prison and Robin is missing."

Alfred brought a mop over to where Batman was standing, a look of horror crossing his features. "Master Batman, isn't he the one…." The rest of the sentence faded as the butler remembered Robin's demeanor the last time the young hero had faced Kirik.

"Yes," Batman growled but Alfred could hear the distress in his tone. "And, of course," he continued in frustration, "I have nowhere to start looking. There weren't even any footprints!" he exclaimed as he removed his cowl, cape, utility belt, gloves and boots so they could be laid out to dry.

"Do you know how he escaped, sir?" Alfred inquired, a feeling of anxiety beginning to flutter in his heart.

"Nobody in Arkham is talking. He was in _maximum security_ , Alfred!" Batman yelled, although the butler knew the anger wasn't directed at him. "How does a villain escape from maximum security without anybody noticing?" Batman stomped to the Bat-changing area to replace his wet Bat-suit with a dry one. "Also," he continued to shout, "how was the man able to obtain a strong knock-out gas in less than a day?!"

"I don't know, sir," Alfred replied softly as he shook his head and began mopping up the wet mess.

Four minutes later Batman emerged wearing a new Bat-suit and rubbing his damp hair with a towel. After tossing it to Alfred, he dropped onto the chair in front of the Bat-computer and ran his right hand down his face. There was nothing to put in the machine; he had no ideas, no clues and no actual knowledge of the villain.

Why was the man obsessed with Robin? That was a question that hadn't occurred to Batman fourteen months ago. If he knew more about Kirik, maybe he could follow the villain's thought process; find out where he liked to take his victims. But "Kirik" wasn't even his name, it was a word in Turkish! He sighed and typed the word into the Bat-computer; it was better than sitting here doing nothing.

"At least he didn't seem to enjoy physical pain," Batman mumbled as he thought of all the ways that Robin could be suffering right now. His partner had become stronger because of Kirik's actions last year but there were still ways to hurt him. Robin was just a teenager; a hero, yes, but still a vulnerable teenager.

* * *

Since Kirik was gone, Robin decided to figure out how to escape. The room was large, the floor and walls were made of cement and he could only see two exits – presumably a front and back door. The only light was coming from the faded yellow streaks of sun that were fighting their way through the dusty windows near the ceiling. _Why is it always a warehouse?!_

Robin was in the center of the room and he found, when he looked up, that the ceiling was only about twelve feet high. That was unusual and he frowned when he remembered that there was only one section of warehouses with ceilings that low. A very _familiar_ section of warehouses that Robin avoided if at all possible. Number seven eighty-two was seared into his brain and memories from his first week of crime-fighting flooded his mind. His breathing hitched but he was not going to panic. Panicking was something brand-new crime-fighters did and he was a three-year veteran. He was _not_ going to panic.

Closing his eyes and dropping his head, Robin took a deep breath and forced the memories to retreat. His eyes slowly opened and he looked up again, continuing to evaluate the situation. The rope that was wrapped around his wrists was secured to a heavy support beam that ran the length of the ceiling. He tugged on it but, not surprisingly, nothing happened. _Well, this is unfortunate. How am I going to get out of something tight and immobile without my utility belt? And without the use of my hands and feet?_

Lifting his legs in front of him, Robin pulled them up and through his arms. That worsened his condition, however, because now his completely horizontal body was facing the ground with his arms stretched painfully behind his back. His already tired shoulders were supporting all of his weight and he quickly reversed the movement, sighing in relief when he was able to stand on the balls of his feet again.

He stared at the floor, deep in thought. It was probably useless to try to escape like he had last year but he had nothing to lose. Grunting with the effort, Robin struggled to pull his wrists apart but only succeeded in chafing the cuts that were already there. Attempting to separate his ankles did the same thing so he gave up on pulling apart, or sliding out of, the restraints.

Glaring up at the ceiling, he tried to find a weakness but both the rope and the beam were thick. Robin was strong but his strength was more athletic than powerful and there was no way he would be able to tear the rope apart or make the ceiling crash down around him. With the way his luck was going he would probably be crushed anyway. He sighed and closed his eyes, forcing his brain to concentrate on finding a way to escape. There had to be a way; there was _always_ a way….

* * *

Kirik strolled out of the building, amusement dancing in his steel-gray eyes. After checking the trunk of his vehicle, for the fourth time since capturing Robin, he sat down in the driver's seat, started the engine and drove to a section of warehouses ten miles away.

The unit rented by a man named Jonathan Crane was one of the smallest at just over two thousand square feet. Scarecrow had said that anything larger would be too easy for Batman to navigate. The villain was brilliant and Kirik knew he was deeply in the man's debt.

The drive was over before Kirik could figure out a way to return the favor and he set the thought aside for now. Slowing down, he coasted gently to a stop at the back door. There were fragile things in the trunk – things that would lead to his probable death if he wasn't careful.

The villain climbed out, strode to the trunk and opened it. There was a lot of equipment; it was going to take more than one trip. Henchmen would have been very helpful in this situation but Kirik didn't trust anyone anymore and wouldn't make the mistake of hiring even a single person ever again. Growling at the memory of his traitorous former henchmen, the man carried his first load inside, carefully set everything on the floor and returned to the car for the next pile. It took six loads and nearly twenty minutes before he could slam the trunk and lock himself inside the warehouse.

Sweating heavily, Kirik sat down to rest. He grabbed his unique set of blueprints from one of the piles he had brought in, reviewed it one last time and grinned in anticipation. The sooner he set it up, the sooner he could start the fun so he pushed himself to his feet and surveyed the area.

The room was chaotic, full of odds and ends that mattered to nobody. It was exactly what Kirik needed and he mentally thanked the Master of Fear again. He began with the obstacles, creating a short tower of heavy cement blocks ten yards north of the back door and shoving together a group of broken storage crates on the opposite side of the room. After piling up various other pieces of junk in random areas of the space, he walked to the front entrance and turned around to inspect his work. There was no clear path – Batman would have to constantly be moving around. So far, so good.

Next came the weapons: a large axe, several long and wicked-looking knives, two large wooden clubs, three smaller clubs made of metal, several tightly coiled springs and rope – a lot of rope. The villain wanted to take another rest but knew that Batman was probably already searching for his sidekick. Kirik couldn't take any chances; the hero was smart and tenacious.

The rope was already cut into sections so he didn't have to waste time doing that. This was the hard part – finding a place for each trap that would ensure pain but not death. It took Kirik nearly an hour to set everything up to his satisfaction.

Strips of taut rope were stretching from pile to pile all over the room. Batman would have to be looking down in order to remain on his feet. That would enable the swinging knives to slice his torso, or a wooden club to give him a good size headache, or a small piece of metal to injure a bone or two. Nothing life-threatening but everything able to cause pain. After all, it wasn't just Robin that had slipped through Kirik's grasp last year.

There were only two piles left now and they would be fairly easy to place. Kirik had thoroughly studied the building's architecture and memorized where and how he should place the bombs. He only had to climb once, using the slightly wobbly tower of cement blocks. All the other small explosives could be attached to certain areas of the walls and still be effective.

It was finally time for the video cameras. Kirik set up a small television, plugging it into the socket next to the back door, and began positioning the cameras in specific locations. He checked the TV after every placement, ensuring that each view was unobstructed. The group of broken crates had to be moved a few feet to the left but everything else was perfect. Sighing in relief, the villain sat down in front of the television. Pushing the only button on a small black remote, he checked every camera one last time and was completely satisfied.

He had to climb the wobbly cement tower again to place the final touch. His right foot slipped and Kirik only had time to toss it up before he fell. Luckily, he landed on his feet, stumbling back but not feeling any pain. The villain looked up and grinned again. The slightly bloody utility belt was perched precariously on the edge of the top block of the tower. Hopefully it wouldn't slip off until Batman was here searching.

Packing up the television, Kirik walked wearily toward the back door. After unlocking and opening it, he scanned the room one last time to survey his work. A short bark of laughter escaped his mouth as he pictured the scene from both Batman's and Robin's points of view. Everything was set up perfectly; now the fun could begin.

* * *

Batman was stunned with the information that he had been receiving from the Bat-computer. The only thing he had given the machine was the word "kirik" and immediately crime reports began shooting from the exit slot. So far the hero had skimmed about forty and there was still a large stack in the output tray. Thirty-two minutes after Batman had put the word in, the Bat-computer finally gave a short 'ding' and the papers stopped coming.

There were so many reports; too many to go through one by one, even if he asked Alfred to help. The forty he had already glanced it were probably good indicators of what the rest would tell him. Ignoring the tower of paper next to him, Batman focused on the ones in front of him.

The victims in most of the reports were found after only two or three days of being reported missing. The rescuers usually didn't know how to help – many of the captives either wouldn't speak or just repeated gibberish while sobbing in terror. Two had been found dead; one from a heart attack and the other…well, the autopsy had been inconclusive.

Almost every report mentioned some sort of sign related to mental or emotional agony. There were a few comments about blood, but never enough to be life-threatening. Three of the victims had a broken leg, with the clean break located directly in the middle of the shinbone. Batman narrowed his eyes – he remembered all too well the audible 'crack' and nearly inaudible grunt of pain from his young partner. Then he realized that all the reports, _every single one_ , had the word "kirik" followed by a question mark.

"Hungary, France, Canada, China, Scotland, Brazil, Nicaragua…" Batman tossed out the names of the countries as he continued skimming. Kirik was an international "breaker" for hire. Nobody had ever been able to capture him. He was a ghost, leaving his victims for dead as soon as they were broken and probably rushing off to start his next job. From the looks of the reports, Batman doubted that anybody even knew the man's "name" was Kirik.

It finally made sense to Batman. He remembered Kirik telling them that he had never _not_ broken someone. Robin was a challenge that the arrogant man couldn't resist because he, Batman, had called his partner "unbreakable". Everything that had happened, from the day they were captured over a year ago to this very moment, was his fault. He had been too prideful, talking about Robin like that, and now his young partner was paying the price – _again._

There was nothing more to learn from the papers so Batman tossed them into the metal trashcan next to the desk. He glared at the stack next to him then roughly pulled out the tray and almost threw it across the room. Instantly changing his mind, the hero dumped the contents into the basket with all the others. Now he wanted to grab the metal cylinder and throw _that_ across the room. Instead, he ran his right hand roughly through his hair and shoved his chair back so forcefully that it fell over as he stood up.

"Sir, what happened?!" Alfred's normally calm voice was filled with concern. He walked over to the chair and picked it up, pushing it back under the desk that Batman had just abandoned. The trashcan next to the desk was overflowing with papers and Alfred bent down to pick up a few that had fallen to the ground. His eyes widened in dismay when he read the contents of one of them. Robin, his younger charge, was with a man that would stop at nothing to break whomever he decided to go after. _Stay strong Master Robin; he_ _ **will**_ _find you!_

"It's MY fault, Alfred!" Batman yelled, startling the butler out of his thoughts. " _MINE_!" The pacing man was furious with himself. How could he have been so stupid? Robin had recently turned sixteen years old and Batman had the audacity to call him unbreakable nearly two years ago! What kind of hero puts his then-fourteen-year-old partner in danger like that?! He should have known…he should have _known_!

Robin had survived so many things from criminals with worse well-known reputations than Kirik. Joker, for example. Batman didn't think anyone could hate Robin more than Joker did; the man was in a league of his own. But now that he had this new information, the Caped Crusader had to consider the horrifying thought that Kirik may have just surpassed Joker.

Robin could handle a near-deathly beating from Joker and a bloody body with broken bones from other villains. But Kirik was different; he wasn't motivated by the thought of blood or bones smashed to pieces. This villain didn't want Robin the kid to die, he wanted "Robin" the crime-fighting young hero of Gotham City to die. That in itself would kill the boy's bright spirit. Dick Grayson would never be the same energetic, fun-loving, humorous and virtually always cheerful teenager if Robin were to disappear. And Batman was _never_ going to allow _that_ to happen.

In order to prevent it, though, he had to find his partner quickly. Fear of the unknown – it was uncharacteristically affecting Batman and he knew it would be affecting the more emotional Robin. The Dynamic Duo didn't know enough about this man, they hadn't even taken the time to learn _anything_ about him after they had come home from the four-day ordeal! For the first time in his life, Batman felt like an idiot.

* * *

A/N: I decided to make Robin a month or two past sixteen in this story so that means he was late fourteen to early fifteen in "Redefining Robin". Therefore, Batman called his young partner "unbreakable" when he was a few months older than fourteen. I know, that's really early for Batman to say something like that since Robin became a crime-fighter when he was thirteen (in my stories). However, I didn't want Robin older than sixteen. Let's just say that Batman is super proud of his ward and wasn't thinking when he made that comment so early in Robin's career. :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Blas, Batman Dude, Carl, Owan, JokerFan2011 and mystery guest!

JokerFan2011 - I have also heard about Robin's younger age but, because my stories are based off the 60s show, the earliest I see Dick is thirteen. Also, I'm strictly a "Dick Grayson as Robin" type of person. Again, based off the 60s show (I'm not a comic book reader) so I can't (don't want to?) see anyone else as Robin. :) The first time I saw the show (reruns in the 90s!) Burt Ward/Robin became my teenage crush (that's kind of embarrassing to say!) and he's not Tim, Jason, etc. That's probably part of it, also. ;)

Sorry for the delay. Trust me, you don't want to hear about my weekend...

 **Chapter 4:**

 **The next day:**

At Police Headquarters, an unremarkable man with dirty blonde hair was standing at the front counter in the lobby. The veteran policeman managing the desk accepted a large envelope from the man, who said it had been given to him by a dark-haired stranger six blocks south of Headquarters. The blonde-haired man had been suspicious because the stranger was dressed all in black and his eyes kept nervously darting around, as if he was afraid of being caught.

It was addressed to Commissioner Gordon so the good citizen had quickly brought the envelope to Headquarters, knowing that the excellent officers of Gotham City would be able to handle the situation. The policeman thanked the man and asked him to wait in the lobby while he took the mysterious envelope to the commissioner's office. Nodding politely, the man sat down on a wooden bench by the entrance. As the officer disappeared down a long hallway, Kirik stood up and strode out of the office with a slight smirk. _Gotham's finest._

* * *

The Boy Wonder was stumped. He had tried everything he could think of and had only managed to work up a sweat. Blood from his tightly restrained wrists continued to slide down his arms. The two fluids mingled at his shoulders and began traveling down both the front and back of his torso. The continuous dribbles were making him itch and he had no way to relieve the feeling. It didn't help that his legs were twitching relentlessly now. He had been doing leg lifts to keep his muscles active but Kirik had been right. Robin was using a lot of energy that he might need later.

The final idea that came to his mind was also the worst one. Why would he purposefully dislocate both of his shoulders? It _would_ give his legs more room to slip between his arms, which _would_ give him more leverage to push against his arms, which in turn _might_ loosen the ties around his wrists. But the con definitely outweighed the pro, especially if it didn't work. He could usually handle the explosions of pain from _one_ dislocated joint without passing out completely. Two, though? Robin was pretty sure that the action would lead to immediate unconsciousness and, obviously, result in more agony when Kirik actually began to attempt to break him.

So, that ridiculous idea had been tossed out the window with all the other ones that hadn't worked. Robin really didn't want Batman to have to find and rescue him. It seemed like he was always the one who was stupid enough to get captured and Batman was probably annoyed that it had happened again. One would think that a sixteen-year-old, strong, athletic and veteran crime-fighter who could defeat a number of dangerous villains would be able to figure out a way to escape from a virtually unknown criminal!

At least Batman wasn't here to see him failing in his attempts to free himself; it was much easier to focus on how to escape when Batman was absent. The teen could fail as many times as necessary before finally succeeding because the older hero wouldn't be watching his younger partner demonstrate weakness. Batman was never weak and Robin would never again let his hero find any reason to pity him. That had already happened once; Kirik had taken Robin to a dark place from which he almost hadn't returned.

There had been a glimmer of pity in Batman's concerned eyes for several days after they had escaped and Robin had grown to detest the look. Avoiding direct eye contact probably hadn't helped but the sense of failure had overwhelmed him and Robin didn't want to see _any_ type of emotion in the eyes of _anyone_. That had lasted for about a week. It was true that he had redefined who "Robin" was but that didn't mean he could easily disregard all the feelings of inadequacy that Kirik had drawn out of him.

Fourteen months ago the Boy Wonder had promised himself that if he ever saw even a tiny trace of pity in Batman's eyes, he would throw his mask in the trash and allow "Robin" to die. He had decided that he didn't deserve to be a hero if he wasn't capable of withstanding whatever type of pain was thrown at him. Heroes were never pitied; they were strong and smart and…heroic. All Robin had to do was remain in control of everything, all the time, and he could continue to be a hero.

* * *

Not a single crime report contained clues regarding a "usual" hideout. Batman, after several minutes of yelling at himself for all of the idiotic things he had done that had led to this moment, was currently sitting on the ground next to the wastebasket. He had dumped all the papers onto the floor and was sifting through them. The top section of a typical crime report listed the place where the captives had been found so his search was going rather quickly.

The villain apparently didn't care where he took his victims; the places were completely random. Warehouses – both large and small, cabins – both in the mountains and on plains in the middle of nowhere, boats – usually personal but once it was a cruise ship, houses of various sizes, vehicles ranging from little coups to station wagons to buses, even a treehouse! There were no easily identifiable similarities and Batman was becoming more and more frustrated.

Almost everything he had read today was entirely useless. The hero had already known that Kirik was paid to break people and had figured out why the man was obsessed with Robin. However, he had no possible hideout locations and no way of knowing what was happening to his young partner. The villain was good at what he did, and very careful when he went about doing it. That's why he was a professional. He knew exactly how to hurt the person he was being paid to break. He knew exactly when to stop doing whatever it was he had chosen to do. And he knew how to become completely invisible after finishing a job. Police in every country were baffled, even though Kirik had been to some of them more than once, and the villain could now say that he had also stymied the intellectually gifted Batman. The World's Greatest Detective had no ideas…about anything.

 _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._ The blinking Bat-phone drew the hero out of his depressing thoughts and he immediately jumped up. Raising a hand to Alfred, who was just about to answer, Batman picked it up himself.

"Yes, Commissioner?" his voice was calm but a distinct trace of apprehension was wandering through the words. Shaking his head, Batman willed the tone away.

"I received a large manila envelope addressed to me and, when I opened it, I found a smaller gray envelope addressed to you," Commissioner Gordon stated. His voice was filled with concern and Batman's right hand unintentionally squeezed itself tighter around the receiver of the Bat-phone.

"And?" the hero inquired, forcing himself to focus solely on the words he was about to hear instead of the image of a dead Robin.

"I'm reading the front of the envelope. It says, 'To be opened only by Batman, unless you want his sidekick to die'. There is a drop of what looks like blood right underneath the word 'sidekick' and the word 'die' is in all capital letters," the commissioner reported.

"I'll be right there," Batman almost whispered the words before hanging up and racing to the Batmobile. He broke several traffic laws on his way to Police Headquarters and a slight grin flew across his face when he remembered last week's lecture to Robin:

 _"Hurry, Batman, he's getting away!"_

 _"One must always obey the law of the land, Robin. As duly deputized crime-fighters of Gotham City, it is our duty to be good examples of safe driving habits."_

 _"That's true but...isn't it also our duty to capture the villains that threaten the citizens of Gotham? How can we do that if we let him get away because you intend to obey the speed limit?!"_

 _"You make a good point, Robin. Fortunately, that is a conundrum we don't have to solve because he is unwittingly headed straight for a dead-end street."_

The Caped Crusader was startled out of his thoughts when he noticed that the Batmobile was rapidly approaching a vehicle that wasn't moving. Slamming on the brakes, Batman realized that he was in front of Police Headquarters and had almost hit a parked car. Ignoring the imaginary sound of the youthful laughter of his teenage partner, the hero climbed out and sprinted up the steps.

Commissioner Gordon was sitting in his chair, staring at the gray envelope on top of his desk. Chief O'Hara was standing on the commissioner's left, his hands itching to rip the paper open. The suspense was killing the man and, for one of the few times in his police career, he didn't want to wait for Batman. He was relieved when the hero practically flew in the door and snatched the envelope off the commissioner's desk.

Three pairs of eyes watched as Batman tore open the envelope and pulled out a short piece of paper. Two pairs were left searching the third for clues as the hero quickly read the note before stuffing it back in the envelope and racing out the door again.

"Somethin' is very wrong, Commissioner," Chief O'Hara commented quietly. "I know Robin is missin' but Batman never leaves without tellin' us somethin'!"

"Right you are, Chief," the commissioner replied. "Our only hope is that he finds the Boy Wonder before…" Trailing off, Commissioner Gordon shook his head to rid his mind of the horrible image of a dead Robin being carried in the arms of a grief-stricken Batman.

* * *

He had left Robin alone in the warehouse all night and, when Kirik returned, he expected to see the boy sleeping. There was no doubt in his mind that Robin would have tried to escape and that waste of energy, combined with the difficulty of trying to sleep while hanging vertically, would have drained the strength out of the kid. Eventually Robin would have been exhausted enough to give in and close his eyes.

So, after grabbing the small television from the trunk and silently opening the back door of the warehouse, Kirik was astonished to see the boy awake. Luckily the sidekick wasn't looking his way; he didn't want Robin to know he was there yet. Kirik winced when a glimmer of sunlight flashed through the small gap in the door. It quickly merged with the light from the dusty windows, however, and Robin didn't even notice the minute change.

Grinning from the shadows, the villain studied the boy. He _had_ been struggling; it was obvious from his condition. Blood diluted with salty water was dripping from his torso and sweat was running down his face. The kid was breathing heavily and Kirik could almost see the wheels turning in Robin's head as he stared at the ground. Had he been wrestling with the rope for the entire night?

 _Maybe I've underestimated his physical strength. But he has to be tired; it's going to be so easy to break him!_

* * *

Robin thought he heard a slight noise but was too focused on his goal to care. The teen was exhausted but refused to stop trying. He glared at the ground, deep in thought. He had no other ideas, however, not even an inkling of one!

The Boy Wonder's entire body was protesting his position again but there was no way to stop his muscles from trembling. For two seconds Robin wished his athletic muscles were powerful instead; the inactivity wouldn't affect them as much as it was now. But then he wouldn't be Robin – athletic, agile and speedy. And his skills wouldn't complement Batman's abilities because they would be the same.

Another idea unexpectedly bounced into his mind, although it seemed to be the most idiotic of all his lame strategies that hadn't worked. His wrists were restrained too tightly for him to jerk his way out of the rope so Robin was going to climb instead. It was really going to hurt, probably more than dislocating both shoulders, but he decided not to dwell on that thought. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the rope and began slowly pulling his body up hand over hand. He could only move an inch at a time but at least he was making a little bit of progress.

His entire body was drenched with sweat, including his hands. The rope kept slipping through them and the tips of his fingers were beginning to bleed from attempting to dig themselves into the thick cords. However, Robin was determined to free himself instead of just hanging around waiting for Batman to rescue him. So, even though his biceps were shaking and his breathing was erratic, the Boy Wonder continued scraping his way up the rope – hand over hand, inch by inch.

* * *

Kirik watched in disbelief as the sidekick began climbing the rope using only the strength of his arms. Glancing up, the villain reassured himself that the boy wouldn't be able to untie the ten tight knots he had used to secure the rope to the lengthy beam. So...what was the kid trying to do? He wanted to stand and watch but he also wanted to have things set up before Robin could figure out what was going to happen.

The kid was focused on climbing so the man took the television to the other side of the room and plugged it in. Placing it on the rolling cart that he had discovered when prepping this warehouse, he put down two remotes and turned around. Fascinated by the sidekick's ability to continue up the rope, Kirik folded his arms across his chest and waited for Robin's idea to unfold.

* * *

This time the noise was louder and Robin froze. If Kirik was back there was no point in trying this because he would just be quickly strung up again. He wasn't going to let go and drop his body from ten feet in the air, attempting to tear something apart with the weight of his free-falling form, if there was no point. Sighing, he glanced down and was disappointed. Kirik was standing off to the side, nearly invisible in the shadows, and watching intently. Slowly, Robin began his descent, frustrated that his last idea had been a waste of time and strength. Landing lightly on the balls of his feet, and with his exhausted muscles pleading for freedom, the Boy Wonder glared viciously at the villain who was now striding from the shadows.

"Well, now, what's going on here?" Kirik asked casually, although he was a little taken aback by the ferociousness of the glare. "You haven't been trying to escape, have you? I already told you that any attempt to get free is useless; you're just wasting energy."

"I will…find a way," Robin growled, fatigue marching loudly from word to word.

"I doubt it," Kirik snarled at the slightly confident tone of the boy. "The _only_ reason you escaped last year was because I was stupid enough to hire people to help. That's not happening again and Batman doesn't even know where to start looking."

Robin smirked in defiance. "You are underestimating both his intelligence and his detective skills. He might not know where to start right away, but he will figure it out. He's also relentless, but you already know that. It doesn't really matter that much, though, because _I_ will find a way out of this."

Kirik narrowed his eyes, "You're really getting on my nerves, kid. I'm not concerned about Batman's abilities or your lack of ingenuity. You'll have to be rescued, you can't get out of this by yourself. Even if the hero does eventually find you, I will be long gone because you _are_ going to break. In fact, it's going to be quite easy to do this time."

Robin sneered at him, "Don't you remember what occurred last time you _tried_ to break me? No matter what you do to me, it will never happen."

Kirik sneered right back, "It's not what I'm going to do to _you_ that will cause you to break." He held up a remote and turned on the television that Robin hadn't even noticed.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for the speedy reviews Batman Dude and Blas! :)

 **Chapter 5:**

"Alfred!" Batman shouted as he parked the Batmobile and exited as quickly as possible. There was no sign of the man and Batman strode toward the Bat-phone. Flipping the Internal Bat-Phone Mode switch, he waited impatiently for the butler to pick up the one in the study. The impatience swiftly turned into alarm as he glanced at the Bat-clock on the table. Alfred usually answered the call quickly but it had been almost a minute since Batman had pushed the button. Hanging up the Bat-phone, Batman sprinted toward the Batpoles and was just about to shoot himself up to Wayne Manor when he heard the familiar humming sound of the service elevator.

Less than ten seconds later Alfred appeared from the tunnel. "I'm sorry for the delay, Master Batman, but the girl scouts were at the front door and you know how much Master Robin loves the thin mints."

"Yes, I do," Batman replied with a slight grin as he strode over to the Bat-roscope. Motioning for his butler to join him, the hero pulled out the note and placed both it and the envelope on the screen.

"The Bat-roscope, sir?" Alfred was a little skeptical that fingerprints would be found on a note from a professional criminal.

"There's nothing to lose," Batman replied and waited as the machine scanned the thin sheets of gray.

Both men were shocked when the Bat-roscope stopped scanning and ejected a card. Batman snatched it up, saw the name and froze: Roddy Cooptrup.

"No, this is impossible! Roddy's dead; I watched him die!" Batman's eyes were wide with distress. "I couldn't stop it, I saw his brother-in-law kill him!"

"I'm sorry, Master Batman, but I don't know who you are talking about." Alfred's worry intensified as he watched the usually unreadable face of Batman dissolve into sorrow.

"Roddy allegedly murdered his wife and two young children. His brother-in-law, Victor, vowed to bring him to justice even though there was no evidence of his guilt. It was over twenty-five years ago, Alfred, but I remember the scene as if it happened yesterday. Roddy begged his brother-in-law to hear him out but Victor wouldn't listen."

Batman closed his eyes and wished the picture would disappear. Roddy had defended himself, had tried to assure Victor that he hadn't killed his own family! But Victor was set on revenge and Roddy had been the only suspect for several days. The day before Roddy's death, the real killer had been apprehended by Batman himself. It was all over the news but Victor had taken Roddy to a place so remote that not even a radio signal could reach it. Batman had followed them but he had been four minutes too late. He had heard the pleas and angry replies as he sprinted toward the open door in the back. The gun had gone off several times before Batman had been close enough to tackle Victor. After securing him in Bat-cuffs, the hero had raced over to Roddy but the young father was already gone. The first shot had killed him; the others had been unnecessary punishment. It was the first time that Batman - the brand-new, nineteen-year-old crime-fighter - had felt tears threaten to fill his eyes.

Opening his eyes, Batman stated, "Roddy is dead, his wife and children are dead and Victor died eleven years ago in prison. How, after more than twenty-five years, does the fingerprint of a _dead man_ show up on a note about my _MISSING PARTNER_?!" Batman's voice was rising and the last two words were roared at the paper that was now tightly crumpled in his right hand.

A memory suddenly popped up in his mind and the hero stalked to the Microfilm Crime File. The case _was_ over twenty-five years old but the drawers were filled with the reports of every crime in which Batman had any involvement. He skimmed the contents until he found the one he was searching for: Victor Glans and Roddy Cooptrup. Alfred had joined him and Batman handed the butler several of the slightly grainy photos.

"There's something unusual in one of these pictures, Alfred, but I can't quite remember what it is," Batman said and Alfred nodded. They both grabbed a Bat-magnifying lens and slowly went through each photo one by one.

Batman saw it after carefully searching through seven pictures. It was a photo of the real killer being led away by the police. The man was glaring to his right, at a clothing store with fashionable dresses displayed in the long window. But, Batman realized, the criminal wasn't looking at the store; he was looking at the reflection in the glass. A small boy, no more than ten years old, was standing in the light shadows of an alley across the street from the store. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his eyes were narrowed in concentration.

The next photo showed the same thing but this time the look on the young child's face was one of skepticism. His tightly clenched hands were on his hips and his legs were slightly bent, as if he was about to jump. Batman briefly saw a young Robin ready to leap out of the shadows and attack a villain.

But Robin's eyes were never black with anger and his jaw had never been jutted out in pure fury, which is what Batman saw in the subsequent picture. The unknown boy's arms were now folded defensively across his chest and he looked like he was shaking his head in disbelief. It was obvious that the kid didn't think this man was the killer. Was that why he was glaring so fiercely at the policeman who was now pushing the criminal into the back of a squad car?

Alfred had finished his stack and was watching Batman, who had put three pictures in a row in front of him and was repeatedly sliding the Bat-magnifying lens from left to right. The butler stood by his charge's side, silently waiting. He wasn't about to break Batman's concentration when the man had obviously found something worth looking at several times.

Batman, who never showed any emotion, unexpectedly let out a strangled cry. "It's the boy! Alfred, Roddy's son wasn't killed!" He grabbed a picture of Roddy and placed the first photo of the boy right next to it. The faces were identical – well, as identical as a young child and his father's thirty-something face could be.

Gasping in surprise, Alfred immediately agreed. "But what happened to him, Master Batman? He's so young but he has an incredible look of determination. In fact, it somewhat resembles the one that Master Robin uses when he is fighting through pain."

"I think, Alfred," Batman replied, "that we have just found Kirik. I don't know what happened to him but it doesn't really matter. Roddy's son is alive. I think, also, that we may have just discovered where Robin is being held captive."

"Where, sir?" Alfred nearly shouted at the slight hope of good news.

"The place where Roddy's wife and daughter were murdered! They lived in what was then known as 'Seed City' – a run-down group of shacks exactly forty-two miles north of where we are currently standing. The Gotham City of nearly thirty years ago was spreading south and west, not north. Now, however, the area is just outside the city limits and instead of a neighborhood with rows of broken houses, it's a section of small warehouses. I'm going to check it out; it's the first real clue we have!"

"Master Batman!" Alfred interrupted Batman's race to the Batmobile. "Did you read the note, sir?" he asked, trepidation evident in the tone. The crumpled paper had been tossed on the ground but it was now in the butler's hand being carefully straightened out. A light crinkle could be heard as Alfred's slightly shaking hand held it out to the hero.

"Yes," Batman replied quietly. "Please have the medical area prepped." Then he was gone, leaving Alfred to read the horrifying note one more time:

 _Batman, your sidekick is weak. He is bleeding and struggling to get free. He can't, though, I made sure of that. Even as you read this he is losing confidence and all hopes of being rescued are fading from his mind. The smirk he enjoys throwing onto his face...it's gone for good. The light in his eyes has diminished and right now his fondest dream is to be freed from his mask and "career". If you ever find him, which you won't, he will already be dead. Maybe not physically, but at least you will no longer have any reason to be annoyed with his emotional outbursts._

 _The will to live is gliding out of his body at this very moment. I'm standing here watching it happen. I am claiming victory and reclaiming my record. I have never not broken one of my jobs. That's what your sidekick has been reduced to – just another broken job. Goodbye, Batman. After I'm done with him, you'll never see or hear of me again. I'm retired, "Robin" was my final triumph. And what a great one it was…._

* * *

Robin stared at the television, watching as Batman began searching for something. The teen heard his name and realized that the hero was searching for him. Why did Batman think he was there, wherever 'there' was?

As if reading the boy's mind, Kirik stated, "Batman thinks you are somewhere in that large, crowded warehouse for two reasons. First, and I hate to admit that you were right, he is intelligent. He found the fingerprint and connected the dots. I remember him claiming to have solved the case of my family's murder."

"Your family was _murdered_?!" Robin was stunned at the revelation and nearly allowed a sympathetic tone to enter his voice.

"Shut up," Kirk growled. There was a short pause. "He didn't, though. Solve the case, I mean. My father was the killer; Batman was wrong."

"What happened?" Robin whispered. This time he couldn't keep the distress out of his voice as memories of his own parents' murder rushed through his mind.

"It doesn't matter!" Kirik yelled, placing the remote back on the cart and folding his arms tightly across his chest. "You want my backstory?! Fine - he got the wrong guy, I left town, I wandered around the world perfecting my craft then found out about _you_." Kirik's arms were now flailing around as he paced angrily in front of Robin. "Batman let my baby sister's killer get away! She was four and could already read! She was so smart; I was so proud of her," the man's voice had dropped and was filled with sorrow.

Robin didn't know what to say. He knew how it felt to be proud of someone you loved only to have them ripped away from you. A pang of sadness flew through his heart then decided to return and take up residence. The familiar ache began pulsing in the dark hole that represented the loss of his parents and he closed his eyes.

"How is it fair that twenty-five years later he gets a young 'partner' to be proud of?!" Kirik was shouting again and Robin's eyes popped back open. "A kid that he proudly claims is unbreakable?!" The man stopped directly in front of the boy and snarled, " _Nobody_ is unbreakable!"

As if to prove his point, Kirik drew his hand back and slammed it as hard as he could into the right side of Robin's ribcage. There were two audible 'cracks' and Robin suddenly couldn't breathe. Gasping for air, he watched colorful flowers begin to bloom out of Kirik's head and almost lost consciousness. The man was yelling at him again, though, so Robin snapped open the blue eyes he hadn't even realized were closed.

"If your stupid partner hadn't delivered the wrong guy to the police, you might not even be here right now!" the villain ranted. "The main reason I started learning how to do what I do was so that I could break the man who was not my father anymore! If Batman had caught that man, there would have been NO REASON FOR ME TO AVENGE MY FAMILY!"

Kirik didn't notice that Robin's face had become his punching bag until he heard another 'crack' followed by a grunt of pain. Startled, he discovered that the blood on the boy's face was not originating from the cable ties pinching his wrists together above his head. Glancing down, the man saw a bruise forming on the knuckles of his right hand. The hand that was covered with a light film of red. The fury faded and was immediately replaced by disgust. The boy's head dropped and little crimson dots began littering the cement.

"Is that…that all…" Robin was having difficulty speaking but wasn't going to give the villain a victory. "That all you got?" he whispered, the words wrapped in a package of pain. He felt his left eye swelling, there was blood sliding down his entire face from a fairly deep gash on his forehead and he was pretty sure his left cheekbone was fractured – hopefully it was only a slight crack.

Raising his eyebrows in disbelief at the taunting words, Kirik shook his head. "No," he replied. "All I have is much, _much_ worse."

"I doubt that," Robin lifted his head, laughter dancing around the pain in his eyes. "If I remember correctly, which I do, you are not 'very fond of broken bones and bloody bodies'." It hurt to talk, and he had to spit blood out of his mouth a few times, but Robin didn't care; he had a slight advantage.

Kirik was speechless. How was the kid so good at diving deep under the villain's skin and pricking at the nerves with tiny knives? Deciding to ignore the smirk that was attempting to manifest itself on the boy's injured face, the man returned his attention to the TV.

"The second reason Batman believes you are there is because of that," he nodded his head toward the television and Robin saw his utility belt drop off a short tower of cement. Three seconds later Batman was holding it in his left hand, staring at it angrily while his right hand involuntarily clenched itself into a fist.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Kirik continued with a grin. "There are video cameras in strategic locations so we can see everything that is going to happen. I have also placed bombs throughout the room; bombs that are small enough to take out only a part of the building at a time." Kirik held up a skinny, black piece of metal with a large red button on top and three smaller, yellow buttons on the side. He examined it then looked up at Robin, "This, little sidekick, is a detonator. There are several different settings so that I can control specific bombs or blow them all up at once."

Robin's eyes widened; the man was going to kill Batman and there was nothing he could do to stop it!

"What do you want?" he yelled, hoping to distract the villain from the deathly red button. That was a mistake, he realized, as his cheek began throbbing.

"I simply want you to beg me to stop and then admit that you are broken," Kirik replied and watched the boy's eyes darken in fury.

"Not. Going. To. Happen," Robin growled, lowering his voice to try to ease the pain. The man was bluffing and Robin was going to call him on it.

Kirik put his thumb on top of the button and stared at Robin. "You think I'm bluffing, don't you? I can assure you that I'm not." The villain grabbed the television remote control, pushed a button and the picture changed to an image of a bomb. It was relatively small but could definitely drop a ceiling or a wall on top of Batman, if he was in the right spot. Kirik pressed the TV remote several more times and the image on the screen flicked from bomb to bomb.

Robin shook his now-aching head and remained silent. Batman would be able to get out if one of the bombs went off. He was horrified when the picture changed again and he saw two heavy bolts slide into place on what looked like the front door.

"Oh, and all the exit points are strongly blocked so he has no way to escape. I can see on your face that you were assuming he would be able to quickly get out of there if I blew up one of the bombs," Kirik was sneering again.

Robin was angry with himself for letting his emotions show. His partner would find a way out; there was _always_ a way out. Batman's utility belt was still secured tightly around his waist and there was nothing restraining him. Kirik's thumb was on the button, pushing down slightly, and Robin decided he couldn't take the chance.

"Stop!" he yelled and winced at the flare of pain that raced down the side of his face.

Kirik smirked, "What do you say, _Boy Wonder_?"

Robin growled and swallowed his pride, for Batman's sake. "Please," he mumbled.

"Oh, dear, I didn't hear you. What was that?" Kirik grinned.

"Please stop!" Robin yelled again and hated himself for doing it.

"Not good enough," Kirik growled.

"What do you want me to say?" Rage was clearly evident in Robin's tone and his body was trembling with fury.

"I want you to plead for Batman's life," Kirik's eyes were dark and dangerous.

"I said please, what else is there to say?" Robin shouted, trying to ignore the tiny sparks of fire dancing up and down his face. Now his voice had confusion mixed in with the rage.

"I don't know; figure it out, sidekick!" Kirik replied and pushed the button.

"No!" Robin yelled in distress as one of the bombs…but nothing happened. Robin grinned slightly in relief. The villain _was_ bluffing and Robin had fallen for it.

Kirik looked down at the detonator, shaking it as if confused by the non-explosion, but he was grinning in his head. That had been the warning; the boy was now confident in his refusal to beg. He looked at Robin and saw the familiar smirk lighting up the slightly bloody right side of the boy's features. Kirik hated that smirk – he had seen it too many times last year – and he was ready to wipe it off the kid's face.

"Are you prepared to beg?" Kirik asked, his tone menacing. He knew what was going to happen while Robin probably thought that all of the bombs were duds.

Robin shook his head and retorted, "Right, I'm going to do that since your bombs are so dangerous." He rolled his eyes and mumbled, "You're an idiot."

"No, sidekick, _you_ are the idiot. That one was a warning and your sarcastic response is setting off a real one," Kirik stated, a little too calmly for Robin's liking. Kirik pushed the red button again and Robin's focus shifted to the TV when there was a quiet explosion. The blocks of cement that were stacked right next to Batman toppled over, almost crushing him.

Robin was shocked and stared at the picture in horror. Batman was about to be crushed and it was his fault! He sighed in relief when Batman quickly retreated but growled when he saw blood running down his partner's left arm. Robin turned his attention back to Kirik, who had his thumb on the red button again.

"Stop, please, don't do it! _Let him go_!" Robin roared then added another for good measure. " _PLEASE_!"

Kirik grinned in satisfaction, "Well, well, well. I knew it would happen fast but I wasn't expecting it to be right away. You have just broken and now you get to watch Batman try to escape from my death trap. You will, of course, plead for more mercy after you see what happens but, for now, I'll leave you to it." Kirik strode out the door and Robin glued his eyes to the screen while struggling to get out of his bonds.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Carl, Blas, Ashie, Batman Dude, Jokerfan2011 and mystery guest!

Blas - you make a good point and that is a logical conclusion.

 **Chapter 6:**

Batman stared at the gray building but saw a row of dilapidated shacks. That led his thoughts to a building in a remote area far away from where he was sitting. He heard the gunshots, saw the young face of the furious boy and mentally re-read the note he had memorized back in the Batcave.

Shaking his head, Batman thought of a lively, energetic Robin instead as he climbed out of the Batmobile and looked around. There were no signs of life and nothing that indicated anybody was, or had been, here. He briefly thought about going around to the back but decided against it. Striding to the large silver door, he yanked it open and blinked rapidly as shining lights attacked his eyes. After adjusting to the brightness, the hero stared in amazement at the obstacle course that had obviously been set up for him.

"Robin!" Batman walked slowly around the perimeter first, examining everything. Taut ropes stretched throughout the room – he would have to be very careful when he began his search. Piles of random junk were stacked all over, some of them with deathly sharp, pointed pieces sticking out. Near the back door stood an unsteady tower of cement blocks with the sunlight jumping around on something at the very top.

Suddenly that something fell to the ground and Batman raced around the edge of the room to investigate. He sucked his breath in angrily as he picked up Robin's utility belt. There were some drops of blood on the buckle and he touched them – they were completely dry. The belt had been away from his young partner for a lengthy amount of time.

"Robin!" he yelled again, already knowing that the boy wouldn't answer. His only hope was that Kirik had finished his "job" and left an unconscious body hidden somewhere in the crowded room. But the note had said that Batman would never find the Boy Wonder. Maybe that was a sick joke; maybe the villain had decided to leave the young hero's emotionally scarred body here for Batman to try to fix. That note had been full of horrible hints at the state of Robin's mind and, if any of it was true, the Caped Crusader would have a lot of intricate mending to do. But Robin was strong and, even if he had broken, he could still be strong enough to find himself again.

There was a metallic, scraping sound throughout the room and he saw heavy bolts sliding across every exit point. That was followed by a quiet explosion above his head and he looked up, horrified to see the entire tower of concrete toppling toward his head. He was able to quickly jump out of the way but one of the blocks got a piece of his left shoulder and blood began trickling down his arm. It was superficial and he easily stopped the blood but now Batman was really concerned. Obviously someone was watching him and he glanced around the entire room, looking for video cameras. His keen eyes noticed five and he assumed there were more. He had also seen several more bombs, although they were so small that each one by itself wouldn't blow up the building. All of them together, though, might be enough power for a large explosion.

A thought entered Batman's mind and he kept his face neutral but fury lined the features in his head. What if Robin was fine but was being forced to watch this? Batman knew Robin would do whatever it took to save a life, especially the one of his older partner. The young crime-fighter would have to ask Kirik to spare Batman's life but the villain wouldn't stop at that. The man would want Robin to plead, not just ask, and Robin would do it. He was proud of being unbreakable but he would give Kirik the satisfaction of breaking the Boy Wonder if it meant that Batman would live. Batman clenched his hands into fists and decided to break the man in half when he found him.

* * *

Robin was angry and scared and frustrated. Batman was in a warehouse full of hidden death traps and was going to _die_ because of him! The young hero had known what Kirik was after; he should have just given in as soon as he saw the man. Then none of this would be happening. Batman wouldn't have to be looking for him because Robin would already be free. But no, he had to be a stubborn, prideful idiot.

There was something important that the Boy Wonder didn't understand, though. Kirik had taken great delight in claiming that Robin was broken and yet Batman was still in danger. The villain had accomplished his goal so why were they still here? Answering that question wasn't as crucial as escaping so he pushed it to the back of his mind and began struggling again. But his brain was having trouble concentrating on finding a new way to release his bonds – it was focused on watching Batman trying to avoid death. Besides, he had already tried everything he could think of and nothing had worked. It didn't help that his entire face was aching, his muscles were screaming for freedom and breathing had become slightly painful. For the first time since he had been captured by Kirik, Robin felt completely helpless.

Although it seemed like hours, Robin estimated that it had only been twenty minutes since the villain had left the room. Batman had been crawling around on the floor and was now lying on his stomach. The Boy Wonder wanted to yell at Batman to just find a way out; forget about his idiotic partner and get himself out of there. However, he knew that even if Batman could hear him the hero would never give up on Robin. Batman was back on his feet now and quickly making his way toward the blocked door. A spring suddenly shot a small piece of metal at the hero, who didn't see it coming, knocking him in the head and making him dizzy. Robin watched as Batman stumbled a little and headed straight for an axe that was ready to slice down as soon as something bumped its wall.

"Get out of there, Batman!" Robin yelled, although he knew it was pointless. He decided to focus his words on the villain instead. Doing his best to ignore the pain pulsing in his cheekbone, he shouted, "Kirik, get in here, make it stop, let him go!" There was no answer so Robin roared, " _PLEASE_!"

Kirik strolled into the room. "How's everything going in here?" he smirked, delighted at the fear and distress on the sidekick's face.

"Please, let him go," Robin whispered this time but his eyes were still glued to the screen, where Batman was traveling ever closer to the wall with the axe.

"It's all up to you, Boy Blunder. All you have to do is beg," Kirik grinned arrogantly.

"I don't know how to do anything else except say 'please' every time I speak!" Robin replied, frustration lacing his despairing tone. "What do you want me to say?!" he demanded.

Kirik saw the boy flinch every time he spoke and was suddenly glad that he had lost control earlier. It was true, he hated broken bones and bloody bodies, but he found himself making an exception for the sidekick.

"Tell me that you're broken, that you failed and that Batman doesn't care about you anymore," the villain replied.

"Batman doesn't care if I'm broken or not. We are _partners_ , you taught me that last year, and we will remain partners until forever," Robin snarled.

"You probably should have thought about that answer before actually saying it," Kirik snarled back as he grabbed the detonator. "Or did you forget that there are different settings on my toy?" Robin's eyes widened as Kirik held the detonator high in the air and pushed the red button. A larger explosion than the last one was set off and the screen went black.

"NO!" Robin screamed in horror. Tears were filling his eyes and threatening to spill down his cheeks but he was not going to give Kirik something else to use against him. He couldn't help it, though, and a small one slid from the inside corner of his right eye and down his nose. Robin stared at the black screen of the television, hoping Kirik hadn't seen the moisture or heard the tiny splash.

Kirik, however, was staring at Robin and _did_ see the drop of liquid fall to the floor. He started howling with laughter, "I did it again! You're crying! You, Robin the Boy Wonder, are completely broken and I am the one who did it!" Pointing to the ceiling a few feet away from Robin, he declared, "I have been recording everything that has been happening and I'll make sure that the videotape is played on every television station in the entire world; _especially_ the ones in your precious Gotham City!"

Robin turned his head and glared ferociously at the villain, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Fine, you want to say I'm broken then say it but, no matter what happens, you will pay for this. I don't care who you tell or what you say or even if everybody starts hating me. I _will_ escape and then I will hunt you down and you will regret coming to Gotham City. There will be nowhere to hide, I've been trained by _Batman_ , and I will make you pay in the worst way possible. Start planning your funeral, idiot, because that's what is coming in the near future." Robin's voice was quiet but his tone was sinister and Kirik actually took a step away from him.

"I don't know why you think I'm the idiot when you're the one who has been trying to escape for over a day with no success. I'm sure you recall my words from earlier, when I told you that I learned my lesson fourteen months ago. There is no way to slide any of your tiny limbs out of your bonds and, now, there is no hero to rescue you. Y _ou_ are the one who is going to die and nobody will ever find your body. That's true of Batman, also, since his body has been blown into little tiny pieces," Kirik scowled, infuriated at the boy's unending ability to get under his skin.

Robin growled, lifted his legs and kicked out at the man but he wasn't even close enough to touch him with his toes and Kirik laughed. All the physical pain he had felt before this moment had been replaced by an emotion that Robin had never experienced. Fury – strong, terrible fury that filled his entire body with darkness. One word began bouncing around in his brain: revenge. The fury wrapped the word in a hug and Robin decided that he was going to cross a line that Batman had forbidden either of them to cross. His partner was no longer here to be disappointed in him so killing his murderer wouldn't matter.

"I have no doubts that I will eventually escape," both his voice and his face were full of rage, "and if you _ever_ say Batman's name again I will tear you apart piece by piece." Robin suddenly choked on the lump that arose in his throat and he could no longer hold back the cry of anguish or the tears of grief. It was over, Batman was dead. It was all Robin's fault and he needed to find a way out so he could go after the man who had just ripped his life to shreds.

Kirik was impressed by the quick change in Robin's tone and demeanor. It hadn't taken the kid long to make the leap from sidekick to almost-villain. Shaking his head, the man chuckled and left the boy to dwell in misery. How would the sidekick react when he found out the truth about what had just happened at the warehouse?

* * *

Batman decided that Robin wasn't in the warehouse; he was being kept somewhere else and watching everything that was happening. The hero turned away from the fallen tower and inadvertently tripped over the nearest rope. Unfortunately, that piece of rope led to a wooden club that shot up from the ground, nearly slamming into the side of his head. His reflexes were quick, though, and Batman dropped to a crouch just in time for the weapon to fly a foot over his head.

The man was disappointed in himself. He had known about the traps but had been so absorbed in his thoughts about what he was going to do to Kirik that he had neglected to pay attention. Carefully glancing around his immediate surroundings, Batman saw nothing but taut ropes. He began to cautiously crawl toward the nearest exit, aware of every tiny movement all around him. His head was down, focused on the piece of rope that he was currently crawling over, so he didn't see the second club that tumbled from a tall, unsturdy pile of junk to his left. It hit him hard, squarely in the middle of his back, and the hero's body was shoved down onto the rope. The bend in the rope tipped over a pile of broken crates and one of the pointy ends headed straight for his face. Batman pushed himself left, pulling his right arm up just in time for the short stick to shove itself into his upper arm instead.

Gasping from both the hit to his back and the sharp pain in his arm, Batman decided to run for it. He tore the wood out of the bloody wound and sat up, hoping that nothing else was going to be shot at him. Quickly tearing off the bottom portion of his black cape, he wrapped his arm and paused to allow the pain in his back to recede. He looked right, then left, then up at the ceiling, turned slightly to check behind himself and faced forward again. There were no weapons flying toward him so he concentrated on memorizing the positions of the rope.

The nearest exit was the front door and it was about seventeen yards away. There was a knife attached to the rope stretched across a clump of old furniture to his left and an axe on the wall to his right. The path in front of him was blocked and the immobile axe would be easier to avoid.

"Go right, duck under the axe, turn left, jump over the boxes, straight ahead to miss the bomb in the shadow of the wall on the left, over the rope on the right, through the door."

Satisfied with his exit strategy, he pushed himself to a crouch, glanced around and slowly stood up. Nothing happened and he was relieved. Carefully following his path with his eyes, Batman decided that he would be able to make it out alive. Except for the heavy bolts on the door; he had forgotten about those. The bomb he had planned to avoid would have to be picked up instead and thrown at the door from a safe distance. He would have to move quickly in order to get back behind the boxes he was planning to jump over on his way to the bomb. His solid strategy quickly began dissolving into a shaky, holey mess and Batman wished he had Robin's speed and agility.

"Holy Bat-trap, Robin," he whispered and took off. Everything was going well until he bent over to pick up the bomb. He saw the knife coming, swiveled to his right and tried to snake his body out of the way. That worked, the knife only grazed his chest, but he immediately felt pain on the back of his head. Dizzy and disoriented, he stumbled back and didn't know he was heading for the axe and certain death.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and all the weapons that had been assaulting him dropped to the ground, including the axe that just missed his left arm. Batman looked around, confused at the rapid change, and saw patches of smoke throughout the room. Doors were being unlocked and swinging open and Batman realized that it was time to escape. He raced to the nearest exit and almost ran into the wall but was able to get out the door before dropping to the ground and holding his pounding head in his hands.

 _Why go to the trouble of setting up all those death traps and then allow me to easily escape?_ Batman carefully stood up and shakily stumbled to the Batmobile, pulling his Bat-communicator out of his utility belt when he arrived.

"Batman to…Batcave," his head was killing him and it hurt to talk.

"Batcave here, are you alright, sir?" Alfred's voice was worried when he heard the painful pause from the usually strong voice of Batman.

"I, uh, think I need a ride," Batman's vision was getting hazy and he needed to tell Alfred where he was before he passed out. "I'm at…the…" but he was interrupted.

"I know where you are, sir, and I'm on my way. Is your young partner with you, by any chance?" Alfred inquired but, when there was no reply, he dropped the Bat-communicator receiver and went to the garage as quickly as possible.

Batman heard Alfred say that he was on the way so he sighed in relief and slipped into darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Batman Dude and Blas! Thanks for the advice mystery guest; I'm always open to suggestions for improvement!

 **Chapter 7:**

Salty water had pooled under the hanging form of the Boy Wonder. The previously unshed tears were silently sliding down his flushed cheeks. His mind was showing him, in slow motion, Batman's body being blown into tiny pieces. Then the body would reconnect like a puzzle, only to be torn apart again. The images had been repeating themselves ever since Kirik had left the room. Robin had tried rapidly blinking his eyes but the pictures remained. He had tried roughly shaking his head but, still, the pictures refused to fade away.

Batman was gone…Batman was _gone_! And Robin had dishonored his memory by choosing to change sides. Deep, gut-wrenching guilt had replaced the fury and the Boy Wonder hated himself for dismissing his partner's – his _former_ partner's – strictest rule so quickly. It _did_ matter. Batman wasn't here to be disappointed in him but the way Robin reacted to the situation _did_ matter. He was doing everything wrong: he had been captured, he had been stubborn, he had allowed Batman to die and then he had decided that he was going to kill Kirik. The guilt was joined by an equally horrendous feeling of sorrow and another sob of anguish bounced out of his mouth.

Kill. The word skipped around in his brain and Robin could see himself standing over the villain's bloody body, the murder weapon in his hand. Then, from a quiet corner of his mind, Batman strode slowly over to join the young hero. He looked…sad. Robin thought that disappointment would be the dominant expression on his partner's face; he hadn't expected sadness.

The tears finally stopped; there was nothing left. In his young heart, a new hole of darkness merged with the older one. Batman and his parents – all dead and gone forever. Robin wondered if there was enough room in his heart for anything except grief and loss. Alfred. There was just enough room for the small but bright light that was Alfred.

An intense, throbbing ache returned to his ribs and face and Robin's thoughts drifted from the emotional to the physical. His left eye was bruised and swollen but not all the way shut. The cheekbone was still intact but he would have to be careful about how he spoke to Kirik, if the man ever came back. The blood on his face couldn't dry because of the tears and his inability to put pressure on the cut just under his hairline. But the young hero hadn't been struggling for a while so there was no blood dripping from anywhere else, although there were dried streams all over his arms and torso. Shifting his attention to his ribs, Robin took a deep breath and winced at the sharp pain. They didn't _feel_ broken but he had never been good at telling the difference between a break and a fracture in his ribcage.

The pain in his body didn't really matter, though, because there was no way for Robin to escape. He had already tried everything he could think of and now there was nobody to rescue…. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes and a moan of grief drifted out of his mouth.

"Enough!" he shouted and flinched at the spike of pain that shot through his cheek. Batman was gone but Robin was still here. Robin's time to grieve was over because Alfred would need someone strong and Gotham City still needed protection. The Boy Wonder would always regret the idiotic decisions and inexcusable stubbornness that had led to this moment but Batman would want him to keep fighting. So Robin began struggling again - he wasn't about to disappoint the man….

* * *

Alfred drove as swiftly as possible while trying not to draw attention to himself. Instead of the long, black limousine that he usually drove, the butler was in Bruce Wayne's least spectacular car – although he knew that a royal blue Mazda Miata wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

The row of warehouses came into view and Alfred could see the distinctive profile of the Batmobile at the far end. There was a figure slumped against the front tire and Alfred pushed the gas pedal all the way down to the floor. It took him less than six seconds to cover the nearly eighty-yard length of asphalt. He slammed on the brakes, a little too hard, and the car skidded a few yards past the Batmobile.

The butler unfolded himself out of the tiny vehicle and hurried to Batman's side. The hero's left forearm was on the ground, his back was against the tire and his head was bobbing gently over his left shoulder. Batman's eyes were fluttering, his brain yelling at him to get up and find his young partner.

"Master Batman," Alfred spoke quietly while gently shaking his older charge's right shoulder. The man moaned and slowly opened his eyes.

Batman saw a familiar face, but it wasn't the one he needed to see. His butler helped him sit up and the hero faintly remembered racing frantically around a warehouse.

"Where's…Robin?" Batman asked, wondering why it hurt to talk.

"We thought he was going to be here, sir, but he's not," Alfred replied, a touch of sorrow in his voice. "I'll explain everything when we return to the Batcave. Right now, you need to rest."

The hero and his butler slowly made their way to standing. Batman was leaning heavily on Alfred the whole time and the older man was relieved when he finally got his charge situated in the passenger seat of the Batmobile. Pushing away the slight feeling of fatigue, Alfred climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine and began the long drive back to the Batcave.

He glanced once at his passenger; Batman was completely unconscious. Clearly Kirik had been prepared for the hero and Alfred needed the details. It's hard to fix a body, obvious injuries aside, when its owner can't tell you where it hurts. A soft sigh glided from the butler's lips and he turned his thoughts to the younger of his two charges. If Kirik could do this to _Batman_ ….

Alfred didn't want to dwell on the image that entered his mind. Instead, he began evaluating Batman's injuries and planning what needed to be done.

"Small scrape on the left shoulder, a band-aide will suffice. Larger wound in the upper right arm, cape soaked with blood, obviously not just a flesh wound. It will undoubtedly need stitches. If my memory of the size of the bump on the back of his head is accurate, there is the possibility of a concussion."

That observation led him to pull the Batmobile to the side of the road. Not wanting to disturb his sleeping patient, Alfred carefully opened a side pocket on Batman's utility belt and retrieved a pack of Bat-ice. Then he reached into the glove box and took out a small Bat-towel. Draping the thin fabric over the frozen item so that Batman wouldn't be shocked into awareness, Alfred gently lifted the cowled head and quickly slid the now-covered Bat-ice underneath. After confirming that the pack was in the correct spot, the butler repositioned the hero's head, the large bump coming to rest on the frozen pillow.

There was a low groan and Alfred began driving again. They would arrive at the Batcave in about twenty minutes so the butler continued evaluating his patient's condition. Except there was nothing else he could see. Batman's breathing was a little ragged but Alfred wouldn't be able to check the man's ribs yet. One does not probe another's chest for internal injuries when one's focus should be on the road, _especially_ when driving the Batmobile.

* * *

Kirik was walking to his car, which he had parked behind the warehouse, when a man suddenly appeared beside him. Startled, the villain defensively jumped to the side and raised his fists. The familiar-looking, muscular red-head grinned as he grabbed a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket.

"Scarecrow sends his regards," the gruff voice was surprisingly cheerful. Kirik was wary and didn't move. Shrugging, the guard tossed the white sheet at the villain, turned around and disappeared around the corner of the nearest warehouse. The familiar rumbling of an engine flared up and then faded as the man drove away.

The paper was gliding in a light puff of wind and Kirik grabbed it before it could blow away. He could hear the Master of Fear's voice as he read the words:

 _A low-key criminal has escaped from the minimally guarded section of our wonderful sanctuary. He's relatively new to Gotham City and knows virtually nothing about the Caped Crusaders. He's also tough as nails and leads a small but strong army._

 _I have no idea what you have planned for either half of the Dynamic Duo, but I thought you might want to know. You said bloody bodies and broken bones aren't your thing but I don't remember if you told me that you don't like to do it or if you don't want it to happen at all. So, just in case, I decided to pass on this bit of news. I will not be offended if you choose to ignore the information. Happy hunting…or breaking…or whatever part of your plan you are currently doing!_

The information was intriguing. Of course he would never hire henchmen but what if this small gang just happened to be doing something illegal enough that Batman would be called upon to take care of the situation? And what if he, Kirik, just happened to be hiding in their location and taping the entire thing? That would be a shock to the sidekick – seeing his partner alive but with the odds stacked against him. How many tough people were in this unknown criminal's army? Intriguing, indeed….

* * *

 **The next morning:**

Batman woke up slowly, surprised at the bright sunlight filling the room. He was somewhat lethargic and sitting up gave him a small headache. Suddenly he realized that he was Bruce Wayne and in his own bed in Wayne Manor. Strange – the last thing he remembered was lying on the _passenger_ side of the Batmobile. The memory didn't include the driver but the ride probably would have been much rougher if it was a sixteen-year-old, anxious Boy Wonder.

"Alfred," Bruce growled softly as he forced his tired body to roll out of the softness that was his mattress. His stiff upper back protested the movement and now he remembered falling on a thick piece of string after being hit from above.

A bomb, cameras, knives, piles and piles of junk, rope stretched everywhere and Robin's bloody utility belt. The puzzle pieces quickly fell into place and Bruce practically flew out the bedroom door. Not caring that he was currently in his pajamas, he raced to the study, flipped the switch, impatiently waited for the bookcase to slide sideways and nearly jumped onto his Batpole.

"Alfred!" This time the word was shouted and an almost sheepish-looking butler turned from his place at the Bat-computer.

"Good morning, sir," Alfred said politely. Before Batman could begin speaking, the white-haired man rushed into an explanation.

"I couldn't wake you up, sir. Even after stitching your arm and wrapping your intensely bruised back, I couldn't wake you up. I knew your back would be worse this morning if I left you on the medical table here in the Batcave so I moved you, sir."

"You…moved me?!" Batman was incredulous. Alfred was fairly strong for a man his age but taking the muscular body of the Caped Crusader up to the Manor and then up an entire flight of stairs?!

"You would be surprised, Master Batman, at what one's muscles can do when one is worried about the injured state of his older charge," Alfred commented dryly. "Robin has done that very thing several times and I don't believe that you have ever loudly assaulted his name like you just did mine." The remark was made with a slight smile of humor but Batman shook his head at the words.

"Robin is stronger…" Batman began but trailed off at the accusing look on his faithful butler's face.

"Master Batman," Alfred stated reprovingly, "I agree that Robin is very strong. However, please do not insult my less-muscular physique by implying that I should not be able to take care of the body of an unconscious hero. As I mentioned before, you would be surprised…" this time it was Alfred who trailed off when Batman burst into laughter.

"I'm sorry, Alfred," Batman remarked as he became serious again. "You are strong, I admit it. Now let's find Robin."

 _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._ Batman turned to his right and picked up the Batphone.

"Yes, Commissioner?"

"I know that you are occupied with searching for Robin, but do you think you might be able to spare a moment for Gotham City?" Commissioner Gordon's tone was apologetic but also worried.

The commissioner wanted him to _stop_ looking for Robin?! Was the man going insane?!

"Commissioner, I had hoped that you would understand the seriousness of Robin's situation. You have a very capable Chief and police department. Do you think this is something they can handle?" Batman was attempting to remain polite but there was a definite tone of frustration in his voice.

Commissioner Gordon sighed and shook his head, knowing that he was asking a lot of the hero.

"Well, therein lies the problem. Chief O'Hara has been kidnapped and is being held at gunpoint in a small, well-guarded house on Main Street. The _south_ side of Main Street, Batman."

Now the hero was fuming. Robin had been taken and Chief O'Hara was a captive. Was Kirik involved in this kidnapping? Was this all a distraction to take Batman away from his true priority? But this particular villain wouldn't be working with anyone, Batman was absolutely positive about that. The Caped Crusader was torn: continue hunting for Kirik and leave Chief O'Hara to face his own possible demise or temporarily suspend his search for his strong partner in order to rescue the chief?

Robin would want Batman to go after Chief O'Hara but the hero didn't want to waste even a second doing something other than searching for the teenager. Shaking his head in anger because of his decision, Batman answered the commissioner.

"I'll be right there," he growled and slammed the Batphone down. He saw Alfred's eyes widening in both dismay and understanding as he raced to the Batmobile and took off for Headquarters. The sooner he fixed this situation, the sooner he could continue working on the more important one – finding Robin.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and compliments Carl, Blas, Batman Dude and mystery guest!

 **Chapter 8:**

Batman was sitting in the Batmobile, staring at the old, single-story brick house that had wooden boards nailed across all the windows. All except one – there was a space just wide enough to see the frightened face of Chief O'Hara with the pinned barrel of a Smith and Wesson thirty-eight caliber handgun resting against the side of his head.

The Caped Crusader was angrily frustrated with the entire Gotham City Police Department for several reasons. First, and most important, they had allowed Chief O'Hara to be abducted from the GCPD Charity Brunch and Silent Auction. Second, the chief had been captured while giving his welcome speech before the event had even begun! Third, and most irritating, there were policemen everywhere – that in itself should have been the downfall of the criminals!

"Gotham's Finest," the Caped Crusader growled sarcastically, under his breath, and immediately regretted the remark. But being pulled away from his search for Robin in order to rescue a man who had been snatched at a _police_ event while surrounded by _policemen_ was wiping away much of the courteous respect he usually felt for the department.

There was a quick knock on his door and Batman mentally rolled his eyes. The Batmobile didn't have a top; the short man with the brilliantly blonde hair could have just said the hero's name. It would have had the same effect without causing the obvious rookie to look like a fool at his first real crime scene.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," the rookie's voice was shaking with excitement. He was actually speaking to the one and only Batman! The Caped Crusader, older partner of the Boy Wonder, half of the Dynamic Duo, hero to all of Gotham City! And the man was about to respond!

"Tell me what you know," Batman commanded and the young policeman's excited trembling was now half fear. The pause was long and Batman pushed his door open, almost sending the rookie sprawling to the ground. _Great, now there are kids with stars in their eyes working for the department._ That was another thought that Batman regretted but he strode away without glancing back to see if the young man was okay.

A few of the chief's assistants began walking toward the hero but he raised his left hand, stopping them in their tracks.

"Keep doing whatever it is that you're doing while I rescue Chief O'Hara," Batman grumbled. The men stared at each other in surprise; they weren't used to hearing the protector of Gotham City addressing them in such a, well, rude manner.

Shaking his head, Alfred would not approve of the way he was behaving, Batman strode around the house to the wide open back door. _Well-guarded?!_ His frustration with the department continued to mount as he silently marched up the three steps and entered the shabby kitchen. He knew he was probably walking into a trap but with the way he was feeling right now he could probably take down five men attacking him all at once.

Underestimation. Not a great thing to be doing while attempting to quickly take care of a few kidnappers. There were ten large men in the main room, all of them sporting well-developed muscles, and three of them had guns. _Perfect, this is getting better and better_. Batman ignored the young voice in his head that represented Robin as he immediately went on the offensive.

The Caped Crusader had surprised them by attacking first. Three, well-placed Bat-a-rangs relieved the gunmen of their weapons, sending the guns sliding under a torn couch by the east wall. Batman was grateful for that; anybody who tried to get one could easily be taken out by a large boot to the back. Fortuitously, the gunmen stayed in the path of the Bat-a-rangs and were knocked out when the weapons returned to Batman.

Well-developed hadn't been a strong enough word to use - each man was at least the size of Batman. Seven of them, one of him. Not great odds but he and Robin had dealt with worse. But Robin wasn't here to help. The thought had distracted him and he took a punch to the face that knocked him backward several feet. _Idiot! Can't go back to priority situation if you don't survive this one!_

Jumping back into the fray, he delivered a flurry of punches to the stomachs and chests of the two closest men. They quickly went down but the two behind the hero had begun pummeling his already severely sore back. Batman was nearly flattened when a hard-soled shoe slammed into his right kidney but he was able to land in a crouch instead. A meaty hand swung over his head and the hero drove his fist into the man's solar plexus. The guy curved in on himself, fell backwards and took out another man as he went down. Batman had reduced the odds, it was now three to one, but his aching body was screaming at him every time he moved.

Another large shoe connected with his right arm and blood spurted from last night's stab wound. The pain was intense and Batman saw stars that began swing dancing with rainbows when he received an uppercut to the chin. He landed hard on his back and attempted to protect himself from the burly fist headed towards his face.

Suddenly there were three gunshots and the three criminals dropped to the floor around Batman. He pushed himself up on his left elbow and, through blurry vision, saw the dark hair and solemn eyes of Roddy Cooptrup. No, not Roddy, Kirik. Batman wanted to jump to his feet, race to the man and tear him apart. Instead, his eyes rolled back in his head and he tilted sideways, unconscious before he hit the floor.

* * *

It was a roar that Kirik vaguely recognized. He had only heard the Batmobile's engine twice, both times had been when it arrived at the place where he had knocked the Dynamic Duo out with his drug. But there was no other sound even remotely close to the intensity of that one. It was obviously the Batmobile and Kirik grinned in anticipation.

The villain had been lucky. A simple note with the promise of copious amounts of money had convinced the leader of the small army to go after the chief of police. It had taken a few hours to find the men and Kirik had almost been caught when he was sliding the note under the front door. A close call and searching for a newly-escaped criminal at two in the morning was worth it, however, if it meant he could give the sidekick another ride on the emotional roller coaster.

So now here he was, standing in the darkest corner of the single bedroom in the decrepit house. The angle gave him a perfect view of most of the main room. Kirik made sure that Chief O'Hara was in the picture so Robin could see that Batman had decided to give up on him in order to rescue an important member of the police department.

Kirik's hiding spot and Batman's decision had been two more pieces of luck. The gang was tough but thoughtless. The back door had been unlocked when Kirik had returned just before dawn. He had easily slipped in, hugged the wall and made it to the bedroom without a single person noticing him. It had helped that most of them were asleep. But Batman's decision had surprised him. Kirik was sure that the hero wouldn't show up; he was probably frantic with worry for his young sidekick and would be too absorbed in that investigation to even think about coming for the chief.

Robin was strong, Kirik had to admit it, and that must have been a factor when Batman had made his choice. The hero knew the teenager could hold his own, especially after last year. But, the villain smirked, last year had been completely different. The sidekick was no longer strong and Batman had no idea that the kid had already broken.

Suddenly the man in his thoughts was striding through the door and had already taken care of the three weaponized men. Shocked at the speed, Kirik quickly pressed the 'record' button on his video camera and began following Batman's every move. Chief O'Hara, tied up in his chair and facing the far window, fully entered the picture several times. The fight was going well; two more men had been taken down but Batman's face was somewhat bloody. Five to one odds and now the hero's back was being pummeled. The man was obviously in a large amount of pain and Kirik remembered the large, wooden club he had set up in the warehouse. Perhaps Batman had tripped that trap and been hit on his back. The hero almost dropped to his stomach when one of the men stomped on his kidney but was somehow able to land in a crouch instead. Two more men went down and Batman was now at three to one odds. Kirik was impressed with the hero's strength and was suddenly relieved that he had chosen the boy as his final triumph instead of the man.

Blood began pouring out of Batman's right shoulder and a large fist slammed into his chin. The hero's head snapped back and he was suddenly down on the ground. Kirik realized that the man probably wouldn't be able to get back up this time. He took out his gun and shot the three remaining men, wounding but not killing them.

Striding out of the darkness of the bedroom, Kirik stood right in front of Batman, the camera still recording, and watched as a flash of recognition shot through the hero's cloudy eyes. Batman collapsed as the villain raised the gun and shot the ground next to the hero's head. It was close enough for the sidekick to think that Batman had been shot in the head. The boy wouldn't be able to tell if any more blood had joined the streams that were already flowing from the man's shoulder and face.

Grinning one last time, Kirik raised the video camera close to his mouth, kept it focused on Batman and whispered, "Goodbye, Batman." He quickly flicked the switch to stop recording when he heard a group of policemen rushing at the house. Slipping out the back door, he raced down the alley behind the row of old buildings and disappeared around the corner just as Chief O'Hara stepped outside.

* * *

Robin's hands were wrapped around the rope as tightly as possible and he was attempting to jerk it off the beam or rip it apart in the middle. He didn't care if he dislocated his shoulders because he had to get out of here. Kirik may not be coming back but Robin wasn't going to take the chance that he would return. The muscles in his arms and upper back were protecting his shoulders for now but he was quickly running out of energy and his breath was ragged. Injured ribs didn't appreciate being bounced roughly around and they were threatening to shove themselves out of his chest. That's how it felt, anyway.

The pain became too intense and Robin stopped struggling. There was no way out. He was going to die in this warehouse, just like Batman had died in a warehouse. Robin had failed Batman and was about to fail Alfred. The faithful butler was going to be alone and all of it was Robin's fault. _He_ had made Kirik angry enough to set off the explosion that had killed Batman and _he_ was the one who wasn't smart enough to find a way to escape.

A door opened behind him and Robin, who had been staring sorrowfully at the ground, lifted his head in defiance. Kirik was the only person who knew where he was and Robin was going to regain control of the situation, even though they both knew he would never leave this place. The villain hated the Boy Wonder's smirk so Robin forced one onto his bruised face, adding a Bat-glare just as Kirik walked in front of him.

He had expected grief mixed with fury so a defiant smirk surprised Kirik. There was a vicious look in the boy's eyes and the villain didn't know what to make of the expression. Was the sidekick still an almost-villain or had he changed sides again? It was obvious, though, that the teenager knew about Kirik's hatred of that idiotic smirk.

 _He's just trying to mess with your head. Walk away and let him watch Batman die for a second time._ The thought pleased Kirik and he went to the television, inserting the tape before addressing the boy.

"I have something to show you, kid, and I think you might like it!"

"Right," Robin replied sarcastically, "because I have enjoyed everything about our time together. You're still an idiot," the last four words were mumbled again and Kirik could hear anguish attempting to break through the sentence.

"Why?!" the villain yelled. "Why are you still…"

Robin interrupted, his smirk growing into a half grin. "I'm still talking because I can. My partner is…" Robin swallowed the lump that rushed into his throat, "…gone but I'm still here. Like I said before, I've been trained by _Batman._ I may be down but I'm not out and Batman would _never_ allow me to give up. That, stupid wanna-be villain, is why I'm still talking and able to get under your skin!" Robin shouted.

The cheekbone was yelling at him and it hurt to breathe but the Boy Wonder was satisfied with his short speech. He knew now that he wouldn't give up until he was dead. Even if he wasn't able to free himself, he would struggle and fight until the last breath slid out of his body and his heart stopped working.

Growling, Kirik balled his right hand into a fist and threw it at the boy's face. The hit snapped Robin's head back but it immediately bounced up, the smirk still fastened on the less-injured but still-bloody right side of Robin's face. The villain really didn't like doing this but he forced himself to do it again. This punch connected with the kid's ribs and the smirk disappeared as Robin gasped in agony. Now it was Kirik who was satisfied and he walked away from the sidekick, who had dropped his head and was attempting to catch his breath.

"Like I said," Kirik snarled, "you're going to enjoy this video." He didn't wait for an answer since the kid probably couldn't give one anyway. Turning on the television, he quickly rewound the short tape and pressed play.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Batman Dude, Blas, Carl and JokerFan2011!

Batman Dude - thanks for noticing the lack of length. I went through the last couple of chapters and found a different spot to end them which made them longer. :)

JokerFan2011 - the darker one is not ready. I'm having trouble finishing it because of its substance. The only reason it even exists is because I kept seeing images that I didn't really want to see and the only way for them to leave my mind was to write them down. Then they turned into an extra part of this story but I didn't want to drive anyone away with what, to me, is scary darkness. That's why there are two versions. It's worse than "Seven Days" and you might remember how much trouble I had with that one! I'm pretty sure I have a messed up mind - normal people probably wouldn't go to such lengths when writing about their favorite hero! But I said I would post it so, when it's ready, I will.

 **Chapter 9:**

"Batman, can you hear me?" Chief O'Hara shook the hero's left shoulder but received no response. He waved several officers over and together they lifted the body of the Caped Crusader and placed it gently in the back of a squad car. Siren wailing, the car sped off to Police Headquarters, where Commissioner Gordon was talking to the mysterious man who usually answered the Batphone.

"He's knocked out and not responding," the commissioner was describing what he knew of Batman's condition. "Yes, he's breathing. Chief O'Hara also said his right arm was rather bloody. Yes, I understand, I'll wait."

* * *

On the other end of the Batphone, Alfred was close to thinking about panicking. Robin was gone and now Batman was injured enough to be non-responsive. How was he going to get the hero home without giving away any clues as to the identities of the Dynamic Duo?! The commissioner was waiting for instructions and Alfred didn't have any ideas!

* * *

"Yes, I see," Commissioner Gordon responded after several minutes of silence. "You're right, they do have mutual respect. Okay, I understand, thank you." The commissioner shook his head as he hung up the Batphone.

"The man, whoever he is, wants us to leave Batman at Wayne Manor. Bruce Wayne and Batman have crossed paths before and Mr. Wayne will understand the need for discretion in this matter. The man is going to call the Manor to work out the details with Bruce."

Chief O'Hara nodded. "Let's go men," he stated, waving the same four officers over to carry the Caped Crusader back to the squad car.

* * *

The Batmobile glided gently into its parking spot in the Batcave and the butler was relieved. That problem was fixed and Batman would be in Wayne Manor in about fifteen minutes. Alfred decided to prep the medical area; he would need to get straight to work.

* * *

Pain. That's all Batman's mind could register at the moment. His back, which was being bounced up and down, felt like a solid ball of cement pounding against his ribcage. His right arm was throbbing and his face was stiff with dried blood.

He was suddenly being lifted and his eyes flew open, startling the police officers who were carrying him to the front door of Wayne Manor. They almost dropped him but were quick enough to help him land on his feet. Batman was dizzy and confused and almost went back to sleep. There was a ringing noise in his ears and he realized, when a familiar face opened a long object in front of him, that the sound was the doorbell and Alfred was inviting them in to the house.

"Just lay him on the couch in there, officers," Alfred stated, gesturing toward the living room with his right arm. "Thank you for your help."

Nodding in understanding, and with a quick glance at the man they had just laid on the couch, the policemen left. Alfred waited until the sounds of the cars had disappeared before sitting on a soft chair just left of the couch, carefully examining his patient with his eyes. Batman was lying on his left side with his right arm thrown across his eyes to block out the light. The position had forced the dried blood from his wound to crack, allowing a trickle of fresh liquid to travel down his body and drip onto the rather expensive piece of furniture.

"Sorry 'bout couch," Batman whispered painfully and Alfred shook his head.

"There is nothing to be sorry about, sir. But I would rather look at this down in the Batcave, if you feel you can move."

"Okay," Batman replied quietly and attempted to sit up. Alfred grabbed the less-injured left arm and draped it across his own shoulders. Wrapping his right arm securely around the hero's waist, the butler pulled him to his feet. Slowly they made their way to the service elevator, nearly stumbling to the ground twice.

"This was easier when you couldn't try to help," Alfred whispered under his breath.

They finally made it to the medical area in the Batcave and Alfred sighed in relief again. Batman's head was lolling around on his shoulders and the butler quickly but gently laid him down.

"Can you tell me how you are feeling, sir?" Alfred inquired just loud enough to keep his charge awake.

"Like a two-ton truck ran over me then dropped a wrecking ball on my back," came the quiet reply.

"We'll start with the back then, sir. Roll over, please." Batman flopped instead of rolled, groaned in pain and fell asleep.

Alfred carefully slipped off the large utility belt then began cutting through the material of the Bat-suit. The man's back came into view and the butler winced in sympathy. The right arm was steadily bleeding again and Alfred quickly wrapped the wound with Bat-wrap. That injury would need to be re-stitched when the blood stopped. Alfred shook his head; the hero needed to be grounded but that certainly wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Moving swiftly around the medical area, he gathered the supplies he needed and went to work.

* * *

 **Several hours earlier:**

Robin lifted his head when he heard a commotion. Kirik was playing some sort of video and the Boy Wonder rolled his eyes. Since watching would be useless, Robin stared up at the rope again, still attempting to find a weakness.

"He looks pretty good, doesn't he?" Kirik asked. When there was no reply, he turned back to Robin. "Knock it off, kid," the villain growled when he saw the boy tugging on the rope again.

His attention was drawn to the voice of his nemesis and Robin glared at the man. "No," he replied defiantly. "If you want me to 'knock it off' you'll have to kill me. I will fight until I'm dead and there's nothing you can do about _that_. Unless, of course, you kill me."

Kirik had paused the tape and was glaring back. "You can't fight if all of your bones are broken into tiny little pieces," he snarled.

"Do it then!" Robin taunted. "I know _your_ weakness: physicality. There's no way you could force yourself to even begin trying to break my bones. You shocked yourself when you let your anger out earlier. I saw it in your eyes. You obviously don't like blood – how many times have you washed that hand?" Robin's smirk had returned even though it sent continuous sparks of pain shooting through his cheekbone and extending into his head.

" _WHAT_?!" Kirik exploded. "Wash…what are you…I don't have a weakness!" he sputtered, upset that the boy knew something that Kirik hadn't told him.

"The skin on your right hand," Robin replied, "is dry. Much more dry than the left. Isn't that the one you used on my face?" The Boy Wonder paused to catch his breath; it was still difficult to breathe. "It also has a pinkish tint to it. Blood doesn't come off very easily, does it?" A raised right eyebrow joined the smirk and the villain's jaw dropped in shock.

"SHUT UP!" Kirik yelled, his body trembling with fury. Grabbing the remote, he rewound the tape again. "There's someone on here that you might want to see," the villain snapped as he pressed play.

 _Someone?_ Robin was a little confused and slightly worried. Alfred would be the only other one looking for him and Kirik didn't know about Alfred. Or did he? The teenager squinted at the television, trying to identify the human silhouettes. There were at least seven or eight, all of them big and powerful. One was flying around the room, alternately attacking and dodging. That figure was already injured, though; Robin could tell by the unsteady weight of the man. A fighter that good, at full strength, wouldn't be stumbling around. And the guy was definitely good. Almost as good as Batman, if Batman had an injured torso and a wounded arm that was now bleeding heavily. Wait…no, Batman was dead – blown to pieces because of his stubborn partner. The man was about to lose. All of the other shadows had been ganging up on the one guy. He had taken care of most of them but was now down on the ground, watching a large hand descend towards his face.

Three gunshots, three men on the ground and the video moved closer to the pile of human flesh. Robin's eyes widened and hope whizzed through his body when he saw a cowl. But it was too dark to make out any of the features on the half-hidden face. He quickly realized that it wasn't because of the darkness – the man's face was bloody and already slightly swollen. Then he saw familiar blue eyes, a shade darker than his own, and he gasped in both shock and disbelief.

"Batman?!" Robin suddenly shouted and Kirik turned to look at him with a cruel grin.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, sidekick. Did you think he was dead or something?"

"I…but you…the bombs," Robin was too stunned to release a coherent sentence.

The video had been paused and Kirik waited patiently. It was important for Robin to see the next part. But the boy was struggling to escape again and Kirik sighed. Would the kid never learn?!

"There's a little more to see, kid," the villain yelled and the movements ceased. Robin stared at the screen, apprehension filling his wide eyes.

Another gunshot – this time the bullet was flying straight towards Batman's head.

"NO!" Robin screamed in horror for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Batman wasn't moving now and his eyes were closed.

"Goodbye, Batman," came the quiet whisper and the video went black.

"No," Robin whispered in defeat. Had he really seen Batman? No, he knew that his partner had been blown to pieces. But the blue eyes belonged to Batman; the emotionless eyes that concealed everything, all the time. Nobody else had eyes like that.

"Yes," Kirik corrected. "You see, the warehouse was a game. One that Batman was obviously able to survive. But, as you saw for yourself, nobody can survive a bullet to the brain. Nobody, not even Batman, is indestructible."

Too many things were happening. Batman was dead, Batman was alive, Batman was dead again, maybe it was another trick, nobody gets shot point-blank in the head and lives to tell about it, Batman is dead. Robin felt like his brain was going to explode, to burst right out of his aching head and splatter itself all over Kirik.

The sidekick wasn't responding and the villain grinned. The kid was in shock and overwhelmed. Kirik rewound the tape, only a little bit this time, and put it on a loop from a certain spot to the end. Robin would recognize the face and watch the man "die" over and over.

"Chin up, kid. I'm looking forward to your escape so you can hunt me down and kill me," Kirik laughed and pressed play.

Robin's eyes widened again as his attention was drawn back to the television. The same moment began playing over and over and the Boy Wonder closed his eyes in despair.

* * *

 **Present time:**

"Sir, I must insist that you lie still!" Alfred exclaimed with as much patience as he could muster. Batman, still lying on his stomach, was attempting to push himself up off the medical table and the butler was becoming a little irritated.

"Robin," Batman stated, both pain and distress surrounding the single word.

Alfred sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time. "We _will_ rescue Robin, sir, but you won't be able to help him if you can't even walk. And that's what will happen if you continue struggling against me while I'm trying to stitch your arm and ice your back!"

"I'm fine," the words were growled this time as Batman gently pushed his butler away and forced himself to sit up. Dizziness assaulted him, waves rushed across his eyes and a hammer began hitting him in the head. He suddenly found himself lying down on his aching back with a strong hand on his chest.

"I can see that you're fine, sir," Alfred declared with an uncharacteristic tinge of sarcasm. "Especially since you nearly toppled to the ground and almost passed out."

"I can't just leave him, Alfred," Batman whispered in despair. "He probably thinks I'm dead! I need to find him before that man finishes whatever it is he's been doing!"

The butler was slightly confused. "Why, sir, would he think you were dead?"

Batman had neglected to tell Alfred what he had discovered in the warehouse – the cameras, the traps and the large explosion that had allowed him to escape. Then, at the end of the most recent fight, he had seen Kirik with a camera – one that housed a videotape that Robin was undoubtedly going to be forced to watch. The entire story came out and the butler's eyes grew wide in astonishment.

"Everything I know about Master Robin tells me that if he thinks you are dead then the words in that note are absolutely correct." Alfred's voice was shaking as he thought of his younger charge, alone in captivity and thinking that he was no longer one half of the Dynamic Duo.

" _He'll_ be dead, Alfred," Batman replied quietly. "His light will be extinguished and his soul will be numb. I can't allow that, I just can't…" the hero trailed off and his thoughts returned to Robin's frame of mind fourteen months ago. It had taken almost two weeks for the boy to return to his normal self. But he _had_ returned. This, however, was going to be much worse. Robin was strong but Kirik was using his emotions against him. The emotions that made him Dick Grayson; the _passion_ that made him Robin. Kirik was about to make Robin, the heroic Boy Wonder and always positive bright light of Gotham City, disappear.

* * *

 **The next morning:**

Hope. It was a tiny spark but it was flying throughout Robin's entire body. Since the villain was playing that one section on a loop, the teen had decided to examine it more carefully. It hurt to see his partner lose a fight then take a bullet to the head over and over. It hurt a lot, more than anyone should ever have to hurt. But, now, Robin had hope.

There had been a 'ping'. It was soft but it was there. Heads, when hit with close range bullets, don't 'ping'. Bullets that hit cement or brick or something else equally hard, _do_ 'ping'. He could be reaching for straws and causing himself to imagine the sound but he had thrown that thought aside long ago. That sound, that virtually inaudible noise, had granted him hope.

* * *

Kirik stood in the doorway on the opposite side of the room. From what he had seen on the camera hidden near the ceiling, the sidekick had been awake all night and watching the video. Robin was repeatedly seeing his partner die but had not broken into wailing sobs of grief. Maybe the kid was too traumatized to react. Maybe it was time to stop. But the villain really wanted to use his last death trap; the one that truly _would_ kill Batman.

* * *

Quiet footsteps. Robin's ears had been listening hard all night and instead of a 'ping' they were hearing shoes gliding softly along the floor. The new emotion was not going to manifest itself on his face, the Boy Wonder had decided. If Kirik knew that Robin had hope, he would find some way to use it against him. And Robin wasn't going to let go of that little flame dashing around inside him. So, instead of the smirk that wanted to burst onto his still-aching face, Robin drew a curtain across his eyes and allowed his throbbing body to control his expression.

* * *

The villain strode past the young hero and turned off the television. Pivoting to face the sidekick, Kirik was ecstatic to see blank eyes and a frown of despair and pain. He briefly wondered again if he should stop, the kid probably wouldn't even know what was going on, but rejected the idea for the second time. His last trap was ingenious and he was excited to see what would happen.

Robin the crime-fighter was dead but Batman had to physically die. Kirik couldn't take the chance that the razor-sharp intellect of the hero would actually enable him to find the boy and attempt to rescue the kid from his mind. Shrugging, he ignored the former sidekick and left the warehouse to set up the final trap.

The blue eyes cleared and Robin smirked.

* * *

 **One hour later:**

It wasn't working; the trap wouldn't stay together. No matter how many times he set it up or how many different ways he tried to connect the pieces, it just didn't work. Parts were breaking and screws were popping loose and the whole thing was all…wrong! Kirik angrily threw the remaining unbroken pieces across the room with a yell of exasperation. How was Batman supposed to die now?!

Frustrated, he sat down on a small green box and dropped his head. He pulled at his hair and screamed at the ground. Kirik was not used to dealing with failure; it was something he had only felt one time before – fourteen months ago, when he was lying on gritty asphalt and watching the kid smirking at him. He stood up again and started pacing, his hands clasped behind his back and his face screwed up in concentration.

 _Okay, calm down, think._ The man's genius-level brain began sifting through all the traps he had learned about while researching the Dynamic Duo. Sinking cakes, echo chambers, spinning wheels, vacuum tanks with reversing bellows; they had escaped from every single one! The worst part was that _Batman_ was always the one that figured out how to free them from the traps. And _Batman_ was the one Kirik was trying to kill!

 _Seriously?! The kid is right; you are an idiot sometimes!_ Kirik's thoughts returned to his foolproof trap of last year. How could he be so stupid?! The _only_ reason Batman had been able to escape and rescue his partner was because of Jack and Jason! It _had_ been the perfect trap; it was human error that had ruined it. Everything he needed was available at any hardware store. Choose a small one, too small to be able to afford cameras, and grab what he needed. Easy enough.

Grinning, Kirik walked out the door of the memorable warehouse and carefully shut it behind him. He thought about checking on the boy but he had a lot to do and the kid wasn't going anywhere anyway. A checklist; that's what he needed. Climbing into his old brown vehicle, Kirik pulled out a paper and pencil from the glove box and began creating a short list of supplies. That was followed by an even shorter list of what he needed to do. Satisfied, he tossed both the paper and pencil onto the passenger seat and drove off in search of a hardware store that was too poor to buy surveillance equipment.

* * *

A/N: I'm pretty sure that tapes from video cameras can't be played on a loop but just roll with it. ;-) Also, disclaimer, there are several traps from the actual TV show mentioned so those ideas belong to the creators/writers/producers of the show. I'm not making any money off of them. :)


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks, JokerFan2011 and Batman Dude, for your compliments and encouragement. I have a close family member who is "worried" about me because of my stories. In fact, there are several that I have not shown to this person because it would increase his/her concern. It does make it difficult for me to feel completely okay with what I write and I will probably always have doubts. Anyway, after that confession, thanks again for your encouragement! :)

Thanks, Blas, for the review. I thought it sounded kind of silly but it was the only way I could think of to get Batman back to Alfred without revealing his identity. ;-) So, I'm glad you liked it!

 **Chapter 10:**

While Kirik was checking on Robin and beginning to work on his final trap, Bruce Wayne's faithful butler was still struggling with Batman. Finally, Alfred had decided to forcefully make the man rest. An anti-anti-sedative Bat-pill, along with a healthy dose of Bat-sedative, had been mixed in with the small amount of pain-reducing Bat-medicine that Batman had allowed the butler to give him. The hero was fast asleep, lying on his stomach with a large pack of Bat-ice on his bare back, which was being held in place by the Bat-wrap encircling his torso.

Although the wooden club had landed on just his upper back, the extended lack of Bat-ice, coupled with the harsh treatment it had received during the fight, had caused the bruising to overcome Batman's entire back. It looked like a large piece of coal speckled with clumps of squashed blueberries. There was swelling right between the shoulder blades and Alfred knew it was going to take at least a week for Batman's muscles to return to full strength. Longer, if he had to fight again while rescuing Robin. So much time was being lost and every second spent resting or healing, although it was necessary, was another second closer to the demise of the younger hero.

Alfred was checking the stitches on Batman's right arm when an idea popped into his mind. He glanced over at the metal wastebasket by the Bat-computer; it was still full. It took him eight steps to get there and, after picking it up, seven more to get to the Bat-analyzer. The butler wasn't sure how to categorize the papers so he started with the obvious: place of captivity. Thirty random crime reports were pulled out of the trashcan and Alfred began making piles. Warehouses – twelve, houses – six, vehicles – eight, boats – three and a…treehouse?! He chose the largest pile first and slowly typed each victim's name into the Bat-analyzer with the main category of "warehouse". The familiar whirring sound began and Alfred waited impatiently. The 'ding' was followed by an index card sliding out of the exit slot. That was followed by a gasp of surprise from a wide-eyed butler who had just felt a spark of hope light a small fire in his heart.

He had to be sure before he could tell Batman, though, so Alfred did the same thing with the other four categories. The same result, every time, and the butler was shocked that they hadn't thought of this before. It should have been obvious; Kirik was a specialist and they should have figured this out a long time ago!

Batman chose that moment to begin stirring and Alfred went to his side. The butler wanted to disclose every piece of information right then and there but he knew the hero needed time to wake up and clear his head.

"Whaaaaa you do me?" Batman slurred sleepily and Alfred smiled slightly.

"You were exhausted, sir. I merely helped you rest."

"Robin!" Batman unexpectedly shouted as his eyes flew open. The remains of the Bat-sedative slipped from his system and he glared fiercely at his faithful butler.

"Robin," he repeated accusingly and Alfred sighed.

"You need your strength, Master Batman, in order to rescue Master Robin. The only reason you can move right now," Alfred commented as Batman forced himself to sit up, "is because you have been sleeping long enough to allow the Bat-ice to do its job."

The Caped Crusader was now on his feet, leaning against the edge of the table and trying to shake the cobwebs out of his brain. His hands slowly rose up and he began massaging his temples. Bat-ice, he could feel a large pack on his back and he moved his hands to his waist. Alfred immediately stopped the right hand that was beginning to open the Bat-wrap.

"I will put you out again, _sir_ , if you attempt to take that off," Alfred was polite but firm. "If, however, you agree to leave the bandages on, I will tell you what I have discovered."

"Discovered?" Batman's tone was confused but the word implied something important.

"Do you agree, Master Batman? Do you promise to leave everything the way it is so you can continue to heal?"

Lifting his arms away from his body, Batman nodded.

"Good. You need to sit down," Alfred stated as he led the slightly unsteady hero over to the Bat-analyzer. After situating the man comfortably in the chair, the butler picked up the five index cards that had come out of the machine.

"I want to hear your thoughts before I offer my own conclusions," Alfred remarked. "So, for now, I'm going to give you only the facts that I received from the Bat-analyzer. I separated the crime reports by 'place of captivity' and compared each case in a certain category with the other ones in the same group. We'll start with the results I received when I submitted 'warehouse' as the main category."

Alfred cleared his throat slightly before continuing. "Victim number one worked in a warehouse until a horrific accident sidelined him for almost a year. Victim number two lived in an old, abandoned warehouse for three years because he and his family had nowhere else to stay. Victim number three witnessed an extremely violent fight between two of her relatives while helping them move into a warehouse to grow their shared business. Victim number four had a son who was the office manager in a warehouse when a disgruntled employee went off the handle and the son was killed. Victim number five…" Alfred paused when he saw the contemplative look on his older charge's face. "Do I need to continue, sir?"

"Each one had a stressful experience in a warehouse and each one was found in a warehouse," Batman murmured thoughtfully.

"So you see the connection, sir," Alfred replied. "Out of the thirty reports that I fed into the Bat-analyzer, all thirty of them came back with the same connection. Kirik is a professional and does his research. He _knows_ , sir…he knows where to take his captives. A memory is a strong thing that can be manipulated easily, if done correctly."

"But Robin has so many horrible memories, how would the man know which one to choose?" Batman asked.

"That's very true, sir. He has seen a lot of injuries and death in his young life. But where, sir, would you go if you wanted Master Robin to be taken back to his most _traumatic_ memory?"

"The circus, obviously," Batman responded immediately.

"But that, sir, happened to Dick Grayson, not Robin," came the wise reply.

There was a long pause. Robin had been through a lot in his three years of being a hero: saving innocent lives, being kidnapped by so many different villains, fighting the bad guys even when he was hurt, protecting the citizens of Gotham City. He had gone up against Joker, Two-Face, Catwoman, Conall, Riddler, False Face, Kirik and the list went on. There were so many places with bad memories: the circus, the factory with the buzz saw, the lab with the tunnel, too many warehouses to count, the lighthouse….

"The lighthouse!" Batman exclaimed. "His first time being kidnapped, Joker took him to the lighthouse!"

"True," Alfred agreed, "but do you think that was the _worst_ part of that experience for him?"

Another pause, shorter this time. "The warehouse?" the hero whispered, almost to himself.

"I agree," the butler replied quietly. "Have you ever been in that area of town, near that section of warehouses and _not_ seen his eyes grow slightly wider and his body tense?"

Batman jumped out of the chair, startling Alfred when he grabbed the butler into a hug. "Why didn't we see this before?!" he shouted as he quickly released the man and ripped the Bat-wrap off his own torso. The pack of Bat-ice dropped heavily to the ground and Batman sprinted to the Bat-changing area. Swiftly exiting with a new Bat-suit on, he growled loudly, "Why _didn't_ we see this before?"

Shaking his head, Alfred replied, "I don't know, sir, but do you think we should be focused on answering that question right now?"

The answer was the sound of the Batmobile's engine roaring to life and the vehicle was gone before the butler could even finish his thought.

"Please be careful, sir," Alfred said quietly.

* * *

"Seven eighty-two," Batman stated furiously as the Batmobile raced through the streets of Gotham. "How could you even know about that?!" Thoughts began rushing through the man's brain. "Of course – maximum security, Joker, egotistic villains. And it's _my fault_! Of all the idiotic things to say: hey, my teenage partner is unbreakable! Anybody want to take a shot at him? First one to break him wins a prize!" Now Batman was snarling sarcastically at himself and was actually wishing that Kirik preferred physical pain. Robin could survive broken bones and blood loss and severe bodily injuries; he had proven that over and over.

"Professional," the hero spat mockingly. "Professional idiot. If that man thinks he can tear Robin apart and live to brag about it…" Batman trailed off as he entered the area of Gotham City that housed a certain group of warehouses that a certain Boy Wonder hated to be around.

 _Hang on, Robin._

* * *

Alfred and Batman were connecting puzzle pieces and Kirik was grabbing supplies. The villain knew he needed to hurry. Batman had been knocked out but the hero was strong and smart and would go after his former sidekick as soon as he figured everything out. Kirik had done his research – Batman would look up the villain's "name" and find the crime reports. It might take a while but eventually the intelligent man would discover the link and come for Robin.

He knew he wouldn't have time to cement everything together; the u-bolts and nuts would have to do. Kirik also knew that he would have to leave the hero's feet on the ground. Hopefully that wouldn't matter; hopefully the man would still be stuck forever. The bolts had to be much longer than the previous ones – they had to go through a warehouse wall, not just a wooden one. His setup was taking too long and Kirik was getting nervous. Everything had to be ready before Batman arrived. The roaring engine was approaching and the villain clenched his jaw in frustration. It wasn't perfect but it would have to do.

* * *

This was a trap; it was obviously a trap. Kirik was a genius; that, too, was obvious. Batman climbed out of the Batmobile and stalked to the door of warehouse number seven eighty-two. Pausing before he entered, the hero took a deep breath and prepared himself to see his young partner lying broken on the floor. Then he flung the door open, strode into the room and his world went black.

Twenty minutes later, Batman awoke with a severe headache. The first thing he saw was the grinning face of the younger Roddy Cooptrup. He also realized that he was in a dangerous situation: u-bolts with the nuts on the other side of the wall. The one trap from which he hadn't figured out how to escape. The one time in his entire crime-fighting career that he had actually needed help from someone other than Robin or Alfred.

"You're going to die, you know that, right?" he growled at the man standing in front of him.

Kirik rolled his eyes. "You and your little kid are exactly the same, both threatening to kill me." He suddenly released a loud, booming laugh and said, "Good luck!"

"I know who you are, Roddy," Batman snarled in reply and was pleased when the villain's eyes widened slightly.

"You're wrong, but also semi-correct," Kirik stated with a hint of distress in his voice. "I knew you would connect the dots but I didn't know you would come up with _that_ name. Roddy," the villain spat out the name in disgust, "was my murderous father. But you already know that, don't you? You _know_ you caught the wrong guy but you turned him in anyway!"

Shaking his head, Batman replied, "I wasn't wrong Ro…whatever your name is. You didn't, and still don't, know all the details that I do. There is nothing I can tell you now that will change your mind; I can see that. However, you deserve to know that your innocent father was killed by your uncle, Victor. I watched it happen; I was too late to stop it."

"You're LYING!" Kirik yelled and punched the hero in the face. "My father killed my mother and baby sister and _you_ let him get away! My little sister was the best thing that ever happened to me and you didn't care that my father escaped! Now you'll know what it feels like to lose someone important to you; someone you are so proud of that you brag about him to everyone!"

Batman hadn't thought of that and his eyes narrowed as a trickle of blood slid down his left cheek. "You wanted Robin because you were unbeatable," the hero growled. "You couldn't resist because I called him unbreakable. This is about pride!"

"No," it was Kirik who growled this time. "Well, yes and no. It started out that way; nobody is unbreakable. However, when I finally realized what you mean to him and what he means to you, it became much more than my final triumph. Two birds with one stone," Kirik's voice was filled with rage. "An 'unbreakable' sidekick breaks and I get revenge on Batman, the 'hero' that let my sister's killer get away."

Where. Is. He?" Batman's voice was quiet but the words were enveloped in fury.

Kirik shrugged, "You'll never know and, even if you did, you can't escape from this trap to go rescue him. The only reason you are here now is because those two idiots I stupidly hired helped you get free. I'll tell you about him, though."

"I will escape and find him. You have underestimated both of us. Robin is strong; even if he broke I will bring him back. There is nothing, _nothing_ , you can do to stop that!"

The villain continued as if Batman hadn't even spoken. "He's hanging from a ceiling with no way to get out of his bonds. His efforts have been valiant but there is nothing he can do to release himself. The defiance I saw in his eyes at the beginning has been replaced with emptiness. After all, he watched you die twice: there was a deathly explosion in a warehouse and then you received a bullet in the head after losing a fight. Trust me, that bullet was so close to your already bloody head that there is no reason for him to think you're alive. That glorious scene I played over and over for him. He stared at it all night and didn't respond to anything I said to him this morning. Your kid is gone, Batman, and you are both going to die knowing that you failed each other."

Batman's eyes had widened in dismay as he listened to the man speak. Robin thought he had died in the warehouse. Then hope would have filled his body when he saw Batman fighting the men in that house, only to be crushed to pieces when the hero was "shot in the head". There would be no hope this time because Robin knew that nobody could survive a bullet to the brain.

"Wait!" Kirik demanded when he saw a look of sorrow flash across the hero's face. "He's about to find out that somehow you survived the shot, only to be put in an inescapable trap. You and I both know that he'll remember how impossible it was to get out of this," the villain pointed to the four u-bolts.

"Hope – that emotion will race through him again! You're alive! He can see you, he can help you! All he has to do is escape! Eventually he will realize that he will never, _ever,_ be able to free himself. Then he gets to watch you slowly waste away and he will know that it is all his fault. By losing to me, he has failed you."

"You are going to regret being born," Batman snarled, an undetectable trace of panic in his tone. "You've already accomplished your goal so leave. One of us will escape but, in the extremely unlikely event that we don't, we're both going to die anyway. So just go enjoy your retirement for as long as you can before _you_ are the one who dies. Because I _will_ find you after Robin and I are free and it will be _very_ hard for me to control what happens the next time I see your face. You should run, Kirik, as fast as you can and as far away as you can."

The implied threat hung darkly in the short silence that followed and Kirik briefly thought about obeying the man. But he was confident that the "Dynamic Duo" would never find a way to escape so, rolling his eyes, the villain picked up a tripod and video camera. Quickly setting it up, he explained, "This connects to the television in Robin's tomb. He can see you but he won't be able to hear you. You can yell at him all you want but it will only make you lose your voice. Enjoy your last few days of life. Goodbye, Batman, for the third and final time!" Kirik strolled out of the warehouse, leaving the sound of his scornful laughter hanging in the air as he slammed the door.

Staring straight into the camera, Batman slowly mouthed the words:

"I will always come for you. Never give up."

Repeating the sentences over and over, the Caped Crusader began pushing against the bolts with all of his strength. There was _always_ a way….


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Blas, Batman Dude and Carl!

Carl - thanks for your support and that huge compliment! :-)

 **Chapter 11:**

"There is _always_ a way! Figure it out, idiot!" Robin was yelling at himself in frustration. Remembering that he had stopped his climbing idea because Kirik had entered the room, the Boy Wonder grabbed the rope and started pulling himself up again. Hand over hand, inch by inch. Three inches later a door opened and Robin immediately dropped and shut down his expression. He had made a mistake, assuming that the man was leaving him to die.

"Leave," the young hero almost growled but was able to switch the tone to pleading at the last second.

"I'm about to, kid," Kirik laughed. He walked to the television but then turned to face Robin. The boy was bloody, his face was swollen and his eyes were still lost. The breathing was ragged and sounded painful but the boy probably didn't even notice that now.

"Time to say goodbye, for real this time," Kirik grinned as he turned back to the TV. Flipping the switch to 'on', he made sure the volume was muted then walked around the rolling cart. Carefully, he pushed it toward Robin as far as it could go while still keeping the cord plugged into the socket.

His eyes widened and Robin couldn't stop the rush of hope that flooded into them. He had been right; Batman was still alive! A glimmer of a smirk made his mouth twitch but he refused to let it come out. He was supposed to be completely broken and that sort of expression would cause something bad to happen.

Kirik was waiting for a reaction and laughed when the emotion filled the wide blue eyes. It was perfect; the kid was full of hope again!

"I want you to carefully study Batman's situation," the villain stated softly. "Is there anything you recognize?"

The Boy Wonder had already been searching for clues and was disappointed when Kirik pointed it out. The trap that the Dynamic Duo had only escaped from because of two helpful guys who had decided to change sides. Batman didn't have a mini Bat-blaster, he wouldn't have been able to reach it anyway, and nobody was in the room with him. It was, Robin had to admit, inescapable. So, it was up to him to get free and rescue Batman. The young hero's utility belt was gone but the older hero would have a Bat-laser in his belt. All Robin had to do was escape. There was _always_ a way out.

"Okay, well, I see that you have noticed that it's impossible for Batman to escape. Just like it's impossible for you to escape. This time he really is going to die because I'm leaving and not coming back. You get to watch him slowly waste away. It's your fault, you know. You failed him, just like he knows he failed you. So much for the 'Dynamic Duo'. Poor Gotham City; the citizens are on their own now. Goodbye, teenage idiot!"

Kirik smirked at the boy one last time then strode out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Robin ignored the noise and focused his attention on the television. Batman's mouth was slowly moving but it was difficult to make out what he was attempting to say.

"I come for give up?" Robin questioned his translation. Batman wouldn't tell him to give up! Shaking his head, he was grateful that his partner had decided to repeat the words.

"I definitely see 'I come for' but…come for what?" Shaking his head again, he narrowed his eyes and concentrated. "I come for…never give up. _Never_ give up!" Robin shouted. "Whatever you're coming for, don't worry about it!" he yelled. "I'm not giving up, I'll get you out! You better not give up, either!" Robin knew Batman couldn't hear him but he didn't care.

Grabbing the rope again, the Boy Wonder started climbing. Kirik had said he wasn't coming back and Robin knew this was going to work. He grinned; there was _always_ a way out.

Sixteen minutes later he was touching the beam and looking down at the floor that was approximately ten feet away. Would it be enough power or would it just be pain – agonizing, might-not-recover-from, pain? He looked up; too many tight knots. This was his very last idea and he knew it was going to work. Well, he really, really hoped it was going to work. Nothing left to do but fly.

He took a deep breath, pulled himself up as close to the beam as possible and shoved away. His hands slid down the rope and Robin quickly realized the stupidity of that part of the plan. There was now more skin on the rope than on his hands but it was too late to fix that. After falling nine feet toward the ground, the Boy Wonder yanked on the rope as hard as he could. It really _was_ agonizing pain – his shoulders tore themselves away from their sockets, his head whipped back to crunch his spine and his ribs shoved themselves into his abs.

Screaming in agony, Robin allowed the pain to overwhelm him. Just before slipping into the darkness, he thought he heard a loud tearing sound. But then he crashed to the ground, dove into a sea of black and went limp.

* * *

Batman really hoped Robin was watching and able to understand his words. There was no way he was going to fail his young partner. He had promised Robin that he would always come for him and the Boy Wonder trusted him. Escape was going to be nearly impossible. _Nearly_. But Robin was waiting for him, and Batman was going to find a way.

* * *

 **Several hours later:**

In warehouse number seven eighty-two, Batman was exhausted. He had been pulling and struggling and wracking his brain for what seemed like a hundred days and nothing was happening. His black and blue back was on fire from all the strain being put on it but Batman didn't stop. The hero felt like an idiot again; Robin needed him and he couldn't escape from a quartet of u-bolts!

Across the black strip of asphalt, in warehouse number seven eighty-three, Robin was crumpled in a heap on his right side, groaning in pain as his senses returned. He opened his eyes but everything felt broken and he didn't want to move. Confusion was the predominant feeling. Why was he lying on a cement floor wishing he was dead so that he wouldn't have to deal with the pain? The Boy Wonder wanted to close his eyes again and float away but there was a thought kicking him in the back of his head. He attempted to ignore it because there was pain everywhere. A pounding headache was actually the easiest ache to deal with right now. But the stupid hint of…something…wouldn't leave him alone.

Robin unexpectedly realized that he had forgotten how to breathe. He knew he was supposed to be feeling air enter and exit his body but he wasn't quite sure how to make that happen. What felt like a rolling pin was being shoved side to side across his torso and the crushing feeling wasn't allowing anything else to happen. Holes of blackness filled with dots of swirling colors were crowding into his mind and Robin decided that trying to push them away wasn't worth the pain.

 _Batman._ The thought reasserted itself and the Boy Wonder's lungs were suddenly pulling in air. Batman was somewhere doing something and Robin was supposed to be doing something that had to do with whatever Batman was doing. Fuzzy-edged images, nearly hidden behind wispy clouds, began drifting lazily around in his mind. A rope, a bullet, a bomb, a long fall, a rope again, Kirik….

Kirik! Hanging from the ceiling! No, Robin was hanging from the ceiling. _Was_ he hanging from the ceiling? Robin stared at the long beam high above him and wondered why there was only a short rope dangling from the object. If he was hanging from the ceiling, shouldn't the rope be long enough to reach his body? And why was he on cold cement and staring up? He should be looking down. Maybe he was hanging upside down. But that still didn't explain the obviously torn rope above him.

A television, an axe, Batman was dead, an evil smirk, a broken cheek. How could a cheek break? Only bones could break; did his cheek have a bone? Maybe he was dead. But would he really be feeling all of this pain if he was dead? No, probably not. Therefore, Robin decided, he wasn't dead…yet.

Batman, a trap, a feeling of hope, a feeling of despair, a feeling of needing to help someone. Was he supposed to help Batman, a man who almost never needed help? _Almost never_. Seven eighty-two, Joker, Kirik had a sister, Batman was too dead to save, a feeling of failure, Gotham City on its own, Alfred crying. Why would Alfred be crying?

Robin was so confused and every single bone and muscle in his body was screaming at him to go to sleep. The Boy Wonder was leaning towards giving in when he saw a square box on top of some kind of cart with wheels. No, not just a square box, a television. Something on that screen would give him a clue, he was absolutely sure about that. But how was he going to push himself up to see it? He was barely breathing!

Kirik smirking at him, Batman staring at him. _I come for never give up_. Sighing, he whispered, "I won't give up, Batman. But it might take me a while to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing."

The young hero decided that it was time to test his body. His head didn't want to cooperate but Robin forced his neck to lift the heavy thing off the ground. That made him discover that his shoulders were on fire. The flames weren't traveling anywhere else, though, and that was weird. Laying his head on the ground again, the Boy Wonder tried rolling his wrists. It worked, but they could only roll at the same time. That was also weird. An acrobatic crime-fighter, because he knew that's what he was, had to have wrists that could separate from each other.

Everyone had ribs, why didn't he have them? Maybe ribs weren't necessary to live. Robin didn't realize that his torso had gone completely numb; the pain was overwhelming and that part of his body refused to accept it. He bent his knees and felt a twinge of pain in the right one. Well, he _had_ landed on his right side so that made sense.

Wait. Landed…he had landed. Suddenly the fuzzy images and tiny memories combined to make clear pictures and Robin remembered everything. He grinned slightly, although it really hurt his entire face. It had worked; there was _always_ a way. This particular way had ended worse than he thought it would but at least it had worked.

Batman was stuck in an inescapable trap, waiting for Robin to rescue him. This was going to be one of the most physically agonizing moments of his young life but it had to be done. The torso had decided to jump into the pool of pain that was the Boy Wonder's body and Robin was able to contract his abs long enough to sit up. That almost made him drop back to the floor, and into unconsciousness, but he forced himself to stay awake by biting the inside of his left cheek.

That had been a stupid idea – the left was the cheek with the broken bone. Tears of pain shot out of his eyes and he thought again about going back to sleep. But Batman had never left Robin to die and the Boy Wonder was determined to return the favor. At least his legs worked. But how was he going to get the cuffs off his ankles? There was no way he would be able to hop anywhere with both of his shoulders dislocated and several broken ribs.

By now Robin had pushed himself up to his knees. The small bursts of sparks in his right knee were manageable and the young hero pushed that specific pain to the back of his mind. However, he still didn't know how to get the stupid cuffs off his ankles. Unless that tiny thing glinting in the fading sunlight about ten yards away was something useful. A key would be helpful but Kirik was too smart to leave _anything_ to help his nemesis escape.

His attention was drawn to the television a few feet above him. Batman was obviously exhausted. His body was limp, his head was down and his struggles were feeble. _I'm coming, hang on._

The sunlight was nearly gone and the formerly shiny object was about to disappear. Shuffling on his knees as fast as he could, Robin sighed in relief when he was able to sit down right next to it. A black hole, darker than the now-inky blackness of the warehouse itself, surrounded him when he forced the fingers on his right hand to pick it up. Dizziness was his best friend right now and he almost fell backwards. However, he had just picked up a key and he laughed out loud. The laugh was more like an agonized croak but he was too focused to notice.

The only light he had was coming from the television behind him and he needed light. The sigh was out of frustration this time and he pushed up to his knees again. A lightning strike of pain shot up the right side of his body, wrapped itself around his torso, burst through his left cheekbone and flew out of his swollen left eye. He couldn't push the murky clouds away this time; his small body tipped to the side, the key dropped from his hand and the blue circles disappeared behind a set of fluttering eyelids.

* * *

" _COME ON_!" Batman was yelling at himself in frustration. Sweat was running down his entire body and the fabric on his wrists and ankles was slowly being rubbed away. His muscles were begging for a break and Batman really wanted to give in to their pleas. There was only one thing keeping him from doing just that: Kirik's description of Robin's condition. Batman had never seen a completely hopeless Boy Wonder, although it had been a close call fourteen months ago.

If Kirik had been telling the truth, then Robin was watching Batman's fruitless struggle. His young partner was observing the lack of progress and might be able to see that exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm Batman. He had been in this exact trap a little over a year ago and he hadn't even bothered to figure out a way to escape from it after he and Robin had been set free.

The Caped Crusader's chin was resting on his chest and his body was limp. He had no other ideas but refused to resign himself to giving up. Carefully lifting his head, Batman looked straight into the camera and began slowly repeating another two sentences:

"I will figure this out. Stay strong."

* * *

 **The next morning:**

Bright light forced him to squint his eyes and Robin tried to roll away from the brilliance that was the morning sun. His body was stiff and it fought against the movement. The attempted roll turned out to be just a shudder and that wasn't helpful. At least he had light now. Light but not the key and the latter was more important than the former.

 _This is ridiculous! You're the Boy Wonder so prove it!_

The reply from his entire body was a resounding "no" but he ignored it and sat up. Pain began wracking every inch of his small frame and the only things he could see were flashing stars. Without realizing how he had done it, Robin discovered that he was now on his knees. A quiet sigh slid out of his mouth; how could the cuffs come off if his ankles were under his body? The Boy Wonder still couldn't see anything and was thinking about panicking. He wouldn't be able to find the key, free himself and rescue Batman if he was working blind. Again not knowing how it had happened, Robin found himself sitting on his left hip with both hands on the ground. He was virtually sightless but it calmed him slightly to know that his instincts were still in good condition.

There was a crooked and slightly pointy tiny bump under his left index finger. It was an object that Robin couldn't immediately identify but, when he did, another painful grin lit up his face. He had the key.

 _How helpful. No time to celebrate. Batman's waiting._

The stars had settled into soft beams that splashed through the miniature waves in his vision at random times. That was much easier to deal with; he could see the wiggling silver key well enough to pick it up. His shoulders were now screaming in his ears every time he moved and he knew they had begun to hate him. But there was nothing he could do about it; they would just have to deal with the fire that was consuming every part of the joints.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Robin began mumbling to himself, "I'm going to find you, then I'm going to beat you up, then I'm going to throw you into Arkham with the worst villains, then I'm going to beat you up again..." The phrases shifted his focus slightly and he could concentrate more on the key and less on the pain.

His vision had cleared but Robin still had a problem: his right arm. The key was in front of the lock but his arm was trembling so violently that he couldn't slip it inside the hole. Switching hands didn't matter because then his left arm became the problem. He almost gave up and tossed the key into the shadows but quickly remembered that _he_ was the one doing the rescuing. Batman, no matter what he did or how hard he tried, wouldn't be able to escape from Kirik's brilliant trap.

So, Robin began shoving the key toward the cuffs then pulling it back. Going slowly hadn't been successful; maybe he would get lucky and catch the hole by going faster. That, however, wasn't working very well, either. The metal key would hit the metal cuffs once in a while but there was never the 'click' of a key being inserted into a lock.

 _CLICK._

A smirk swept across his throbbing face. One twist of the key and the left side fell off his ankle. It was good enough; he could walk freely and that's all he needed. Now, how was he going to get up?

Two rough hands were suddenly squeezing his dislocated shoulders and he cried out in shock and agony. Robin was jerked to his feet, spun around and shoved backwards. He stumbled and would have crashed to the floor if he hadn't hit a wall.

"I spent the night in peaceful slumber and was enjoying a comfortable ride in my car when I suddenly realized something," Kirik's familiar voice growled and Robin watched the villain advance toward him. "I inadvertently dropped the key and, obviously, you found it. I'm not even going to ask how you got down but from the way your body is shaking it must have really hurt. Unfortunately, I have to admit that you _are_ exceptionally good at dealing with physical pain. But, I can't have you rushing off to save Batman so I'll just have to cross a line that I have always refused to cross. You know," the villain taunted with another smirk, "the one you immediately decided to cross when you watched Batman's body get blown to pieces. The one that, had you been able to do it, would have caused you to change sides."

The man had a long, metal crowbar in his hand and Robin knew what was coming. Kirik was going to try to kill him. The Boy Wonder ignored the taunt and narrowed his right eye in anger - the left was too swollen to do anything. Shifting his weight onto his uninjured left leg, Robin tensed his back against the wall and waited. He was going to rescue Batman but would have to fight his way through the villain to get there.

An evil, twisted grin made its way onto Kirik's face. The boy was defenseless with his wrists tied tightly together and the rest of his body trembling in pain. Holding the crowbar over his right shoulder like a bat, the villain took one last step toward the former sidekick and swung as hard as he could.

* * *

He had nothing left. Batman had promised Robin that he would always come for him but the hero couldn't even lift his head anymore. Every muscle was exhausted and shaking. Kirik had won; the Dynamic Duo was about to die. Batman really didn't want to give up but he also really didn't have a choice. Nothing had worked and, now, not a single part of his body could obey his command to struggle against the restraints. He, Batman, the Caped Crusader, the Protector of Gotham City, the older half of the Dynamic Duo, the partner of Robin the Boy Wonder and the guardian of an amazing teenager, had failed.

Lifting his head one last time, he stared into the camera and slowly mouthed two words:

"I'm sorry."

* * *

A/N: A thick rope probably wouldn't be torn apart just because someone jerked on it after falling from a significant height. However...Robin is much more than just _someone_. ;-)


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Blas and Batman Dude!

Blas - I hope you didn't lose your voice from all the screaming! ;-)

 **Chapter 12:**

The crowbar swiftly traveled from the villain's shoulder toward Robin's face but, somehow, the young hero found the strength to duck. The metal slammed into the cement wall of the warehouse and Kirik's entire body began vibrating from the impact.

Robin was called the Boy Wonder for a reason, as Scarecrow had mentioned to Kirik, and he used his right leg to push himself off the wall. His right shoulder slammed into the villain's stomach and both of them crashed to the floor. The wind was knocked out of Kirik and Robin felt like he was never going to be able to move or breathe again.

Kirik recovered first and shoved Robin's body off his own. The young hero landed hard on his back and the villain straddled the teenager while grabbing the red tunic with his left hand. Lifting the small body, Kirik clenched his right hand and threw down a punch on Robin's left shoulder. Fireworks exploded in the Boy Wonder's mind but the agonizing pain filled him with adrenaline. Doing his best to ignore the flames bursting down his body, Robin clasped his hands together and shoved them up into the villain's ribcage. This time the audible 'crack' came from Kirik's body and the tunic dropped from his fist as he wrapped both arms around his midsection.

A pair of small, bony elbows met a well-defined chin and Kirik's head snapped up. Now the momentum belonged to Robin and he didn't waste it. Shoving the villain away from his own torso, the young hero sat up and forced his arms to swing toward the head of Kirik. Strong fists connected with the right side of a skull and the man tilted left. Kirik's eyes rolled back in his head and he was flipped onto his back, unconscious before his limp body hit the floor.

Robin was exhausted, the adrenaline was gone and he wanted to give in to the painful streaks of black lightning that he could both see and feel. But this was probably the only chance he was going to have to escape. Pushing his aching body to standing, the boy staggered toward the open door that was twelve yards south of him without looking back.

The bright sun assaulted his eyes and Robin almost tumbled to the ground. Regaining his balance, he rested his back against the wall behind him in order to orient himself. Disbelief filled his face when he saw the warehouse across from him. The young hero had assumed that _he_ was in number seven eighty-two but he had been completely wrong!

It didn't matter, though, and the Boy Wonder stumbled across the asphalt. To his surprise, the door was unlocked and easily swung open as soon as he pushed it. Darkness instead of brightness and Robin had to pause to allow his eyes to adjust. A faint outline was resting against the wall on the other side of the room. He quietly sighed; of course it was on the other side.

* * *

There was a creaking sound, presumably the opening of the warehouse door, and then a bright light. Batman attempted to lift his head but his neck ignored his brain. It was probably just Kirik anyway and the hero had no desire to look at that man in his weakened condition. The villain who had finally defeated the Dynamic Duo. That was definitely something to brag about and Kirik would be remembered forever.

Now something metallic was hitting the cement floor in an irregular pattern. Perhaps the man was going to kill him while Robin watched. Which would be worse for the Boy Wonder: a bloody, broken Batman or a dehydrated, starving-to-death Batman? Maybe Robin, and the hero choked on this thought, was already dead. At least the boy wouldn't have to watch whatever was about to happen.

 _THUD_. Something had just hit the floor but Batman wasn't going to try to figure out what it was. Scraping sounds and heavy breathing. The hero briefly wondered what Kirik was dragging across the floor but tossed the thought away. Did it matter? No.

* * *

The handcuffs were still attached to his right ankle and were striking the floor as Robin wearily forced his wobbly legs to transport his aching body across the room. But the shadowy figure of what he could now recognize as Batman kept moving away from him. Did the man not want to be rescued?!

The Boy Wonder found himself on his knees again. There was no way he would be able to use his arms to crawl his way to Batman. He couldn't even feel his shoulders; they must have fallen off. How many times in his crime-fighting career had he been forced to shuffle somewhere on his knees? Too many and it was just as annoying this time as it had been every other time. Now the metal of the cuffs was scraping against the floor; that was a sound Robin hated and he cringed. There were no other choices, though, and he was _not_ going to leave Batman to die. Staring at the cement, he slowly continued his agonizing journey.

Breathing was painful. Each broken wheeze rattled his ribcage, where sharp needles were poking their way across every rough bone. He stopped to gauge the remaining distance and was astonished at what he saw when he looked up. Batman's head was directly above his own! The man's eyes were closed and his entire body was limp. Grief flew through Robin's mind again – had he arrived too late?

"Batman?" the Boy Wonder asked quietly, pain mixed with a tiny drop of hope filling his young voice.

Batman allowed a sad sigh to escape his lips. Now he was hallucinating, hearing Robin's voice one last time. "I'm sorry," he whispered and wished his Boy Wonder could hear him.

Robin's aching face allowed him a brief grin. "No need," he whispered back. "I deserve a turn to be the rescuer."

A spark of hope filled Batman's chest and he slowly opened his eyes. It was slightly dark and there was a blurry, human-like shadow right underneath him. A _small_ shadow. There was only one "rescuer" with a body that small, that Batman knew of, anyway. He felt something moving through the pockets of his utility belt, obviously searching for a specific Bat-tool.

"Robin?" he asked, his voice louder than before as he felt the movements cease.

"The one and only," came the hoarse reply and Batman instantly recognized the young voice. Heat encircled his right ankle and he tried to move away.

"Pl…please don't move," Robin murmured. His arms were still trembling and he really didn't want to burn his partner's legs with a Bat-laser. "Sorry," he rasped when it happened anyway.

The room was lighter now and Batman could see the familiar, bright colors of the Robin-suit. A hot pain sliced across his right ankle as the u-bolt dropped to the ground. The same thing happened on Batman's left ankle and suddenly his legs were free.

"Sorry again..." Robin was finding it challenging to breathe and his partner's Bat-suit was swirling around. "Rest…I…can't…"

Batman immediately tensed; Robin was obviously extremely injured. He wished his arms had been freed first but realized that it was probably difficult for his young partner to stand up in order to reach them.

"Relax, Robin, take a break. I'm okay, I can wait." There was no reply and Batman's concern grew. "Are you still with me, Robin?"

"Yeah," the whisper was weak and sounded far away. "Minute…just..."

"Okay, just rest. I need you to stay awake, though. Can you tell me what happened?"

"No, please…no," Robin's voice immediately filled with distress and Batman quickly attempted to switch topics. Nothing came to mind and he became frustrated. How was he going to keep Robin awake if they weren't talking to each other?!

"Bright...outside," the Boy Wonder filled the silence. "Warm, too."

Batman grinned, "It's supposed to be hot for the rest of the week."

Suddenly a small head hit his chin and Batman grunted in pain. Two trembling hands were leaning against his chest and Batman was relieved. Robin had made it to his feet.

"Sorry...again," the young voice was right in front of Batman's face. "Might hurt."

The hands moved away from Batman's chest and the right side of Robin's body quickly replaced them. Another gasp from the Boy Wonder but this one was full of agony.

"Guess…shoulder didn't…fall off," Robin's breathing hitched and Batman wanted to grab the boy in his arms. They were still immobile, though, and the older hero wasn't sure if the younger one would be able to free them.

A flaming needle flew up Batman's right hand and it was his turn to gasp in pain.

"Ssssssorry," Robin slurred. "Missed…ssssstupid Bat-shlayer."

"Breathe, Robin!" Batman shouted when he felt his partner's body stop moving. "Come on, you're almost done!"

The small frame shuddered and Batman heard air being sucked into a pair of lungs. Another burning slice, in his forearm this time, but the u-bolt clanged to the floor. Something was shoved under Batman's cowl and then Robin's body began melting away. Batman snapped his right arm around the boy's back and the small form went limp. The hero's left wrist was still stuck, his partner was unconscious and he didn't have the Bat-laser. Or…

Batman tilted his head to the right and felt warmth that was quickly fading away. So that's what Robin had done; he knew he was going to pass out so he had pushed the small Bat-tool into a spot where Batman would be able to reach it.

"Sorry," Batman whispered. He allowed Robin to slide to the floor as gently as possible. Wincing when he heard a thud, albeit a soft one, the Caped Crusader grabbed the Bat-laser from the small space between his Bat-suit and his cowl. After quickly releasing his left arm, the older hero shook out his trembling limbs then crouched down beside his partner.

Bright light suddenly burst through the warehouse door as it was shoved all the way open. Kirik had woken up and was furious. Batman was stunned; he hadn't even known the man was still here! His muscles were screaming at him to rest but there was no way that villain was going to get near Robin, who was lying motionless on his back.

Screaming in frustration, Kirik ran toward Batman with a crowbar raised over his head. Batman, his back on fire and his vision swimming, strode to meet him. Robin had rescued him, now it was Batman's turn.

The crowbar was blocked on the first swing but hit Batman in the back on the follow through. He arched in pain and almost fell to the ground. But Kirik had turned toward Robin and Batman tackled the villain from behind. The long piece of metal flew out of Kirik's hand and slid across the floor. They both watched it travel, one man in horror and the other in glee. It was headed straight for the bloody, swollen face of the unconscious Boy Wonder.

"Robin!" Batman yelled even though he knew it was useless.

* * *

A familiar voice shouted his name and Robin knew something bad was about to happen. The only thing he could do was roll, so he did. Over his right shoulder he went and his body burst into flames as his ribs hit the unforgiving cement. He couldn't put out an entire fire so Robin fell back into darkness as the crowbar slid harmlessly past him and hit the wall.

* * *

Both the hero and villain watched, astonished, as Robin rolled to his right. Batman was relieved and Kirik was furious: somehow Robin had gathered enough strength to move when he heard his name. The boy's moving form became motionless again and Batman didn't waste any time.

Flipping Kirik onto his back, Batman began pummeling the villain's body even as his muscles screamed for relief. Kirik had never been in a _real_ fight; his ability to defend himself was non-existent. Thirty seconds later he screamed in pain and fear right before passing out.

Batman dropped onto the floor on his aching back, exhausted and grateful that the villain was such a wimp. Nothing was responding to his brain's commands to move so Batman decided to give himself a brief rest. Robin was unconscious but the hero could still hear the teenager breathing. It was ragged, but it was there. He closed his eyes - just a short break.

* * *

It had happened again; Batman was dead again. Robin knew this because, even though he remembered rescuing the man, Batman wasn't next to him when the Boy Wonder opened his eyes. If Batman was alive, he would be hovering or probing his torso or commanding him to wake up. Kirik had probably awakened and returned to take care of them both.

"I'm sorry I was too late. I tried." Robin's quiet apology was filled with anguish. He had rescued his partner only to allow him to die. Silent tears slid down his face as a picture of a bloody Batman filled his mind.

The Boy Wonder was lying on his stomach with his left cheek on the floor. The only things that didn't currently hurt were his shins and there was nothing useful to do with a pair of shins. His neck felt slightly less uncomfortable than the rest of his body, though, and a neck could lift a head. So, Robin carefully pulled his head up and turned it until he was looking toward the open door. The thing was heavy and he placed his chin on the floor to try to support the already-shaking muscles in his neck.

Two people. There were two men, both lying on their backs, directly in Robin's line of sight. Neither looked like they were breathing. Maybe they had killed each other. There was only one way to find out but the teenager's body refused to help him.

"You're called the Boy Wonder for a reason, idiot," Robin mumbled. His body screamed – no, that was him screaming internally – as he pushed himself onto his knees.

"Shuffle, that's a dance, who dances on their knees, this is a stupid way to travel," Robin was rambling to keep himself awake. He reached the first body: Kirik.

"I told you that you're an idiot," he twisted his voice into a snarl before moving on. The second body had to be Batman and it was only a few feet away. The eyes were closed but the chest was steadily rising and falling. Robin, however, currently possessed the vision of a baby kitten whose eyes had not yet fully opened. To the Boy Wonder, Batman's chest was completely still. Batman was dead.

" _NO_!" Robin yelled. He forced his arms to rise in front of him then slammed them down onto his partner's chest. Batman was going to live because Robin was going to re-start his heart. It was going to work, just like dropping from the ceiling had worked.

* * *

It was the sound of something shuffling across the floor that re-awakened Batman's senses. There was a continuous stream of mumbling but Batman couldn't understand any of the sounds. A low snarl crept into his ears and the hero was confused. What kind of creature shuffles while snarling and mumbling?

A scream of despair and a hard, painful thump on his chest made Batman's eyes fly open. Desperation was on Robin's face as he raised his fists and the older hero knew what was about to happen. Easily catching the boy's still-bound wrists, Batman quickly sat up.

"It's okay, Robin, I'm alive!" Batman's voice was quiet but Robin's eyes were blank and he was struggling to escape the strong grasp of his older partner.

" _ROBIN_!" the hero roared right in the Boy Wonder's face and Robin flinched.

"No…please," the young hero whispered and the tears started anew. "Don't leave me," Robin choked on the words and grief filled his voice.

"I'm not leaving, Robin!" Batman shouted again, hoping to bring the light back into his partner's eyes. A small spark of something, Batman thought it might be hope, began dancing in the blue circles.

"NO, it's a trick! You're dead, you've died three times! He said this was the last time!" There was a short pause and then a confused whisper, "I'm dead, too?"

Batman released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Pulling Robin into a hug, he said, "Nobody's dead. You saved me, Robin. You beat that criminal and you saved my life. We're both alive because _you_ were strong enough to beat him!"

The voice was Batman's, the strong arms wrapped around his small body belonged to Batman and Robin could hear the heartbeat in the chest. But it was too much to hope for…wasn't it? Only one way to find out.

Slowly pulling himself away from the hug, Robin carefully raised his head. After several quiet minutes of searching the worried eyes of the person sitting beside him, the Boy Wonder realized the truth. Batman really _was_ alive. A quick grin flew across his throbbing face.

"Thanks for not dying," Robin stated softly before allowing his thoughts to lead him to darkness.

Relief flooded through Batman's tired body. Gently, he laid Robin on the floor and began assessing his condition.

"Probable concussion. Face is one big bruise and the left cheekbone is broken. Both shoulders dislocated – how did you stay awake?! Two ribs broken with a third that could be fractured. Wrists…" Batman paused and grabbed the Bat-knife out of his utility belt. Slicing the cable ties and the remaining rope off the boy's wrists, the hero continued his observations.

"Wrists torn and bloody. Skin scraped off of hands – could be rope burn? Right knee slightly sprained; that will heal quickly. Ankles torn and bloody. Feet scraped with bits of what looks like asphalt stuck in some of the cuts. Various bruises everywhere. Overall condition?"

Batman paused again, longer this time. "Overall condition? Alive."

"Batman?" Robin asked, his wide eyes staring up at the hero. "Sorry I doubted you. It's just, I saw you die twice and I didn't want to hope anymore. And I…well, I broke, Batman! I couldn't help it! He killed you over and over and I…I'm sorry! I tried, I really did!" Tears of shame were now filling the Boy Wonder's eyes and Batman shook his head.

"Robin," Batman replied, "I don't care if you broke and there is nothing to be ashamed of. It was stupid of me to talk about you like that and _I'm_ the one who is sorry. What he did to you…" the hero trailed off as horrible images of what Robin must have seen began striding through his mind.

"I'm sorry," Robin said again.

Batman shook his head again, "I just told you…"

Robin interrupted him, "I wanted to kill him. No, I _decided_ to kill him. I threw away the most important rule without a second thought. I'm so sorry," the last three words were filled with anguish.

"You were in shock, Robin. You never would have done it."

"But I wanted to… _so bad_. You had been blown to pieces and I couldn't feel anything but murderous rage. You had been dead for all of thirty seconds and I was already thinking of horrible ways to kill him!" Robin was shouting in anger. Anger that Batman knew was directed not at the villain, but at the boy himself. "If I had been free I might have," the Boy Wonder whispered the last part miserably.

"Robin," Batman began, "I've felt that exact same way many times. Every time I find you bloody and non-responsive, every time I find a villain standing over you with his only objective to kill you, every time it takes me longer than half an hour to find you, every time a single bone has been broken and every time that I discover you are in Joker's clutches."

"But you don't," Robin replied. "Kill anyone, I mean. How do you control yourself? I wanted to tear him apart limb by limb and then rip him into tiny pieces!"

"I don't because it wouldn't accomplish anything. I would be just as villainous as the person I killed. We are heroes, Robin, and we are both strong enough to control those emotions."

The blue eyes widened as a thought strolled through his mind. "He said I switched sides and he was right! I was ready to be a _villain_!" The realization stunned Robin and he squeezed his eyes shut. His entire aching body began to tremble at the thought that Robin, the Boy Wonder, could have become Robin, the Boy Murderer.

"Robin," Batman tried again but his young partner was shaking his head.

"Don't," Robin whispered. "Just…don't." The blue eyes opened again and they were full of self-loathing. "You don't need me and I don't want you feeling like this all the time. If I'm not Robin, I won't be kidnapped by villains. Well, not as much, anyway. Then you won't have to try to control those emotions as often. Because Robin will always be safe at home."

The solution was logical but the fact that _Robin_ had suggested it stunned Batman. He would never command Robin to retire and he knew the boy would regret it. This was a big decision; one that the young hero shouldn't be making in his current condition.

"That's not…you don't…I didn't mean…" Batman was nearly speechless and the stammered words surprised Robin.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Robin brought his right hand up to his mask. He paused at the look in Batman's eyes. It almost resembled…fear. Why would Batman be afraid? He didn't really need Robin that much.

"Robin," Batman whispered, his voice full of distress. "If I didn't have Robin, I would be standing against that wall," he pointed behind Robin, "in u-bolts. I would be stranded and dying."

"If you didn't have Robin," the Boy Wonder countered, "Kirik wouldn't even be here so you _wouldn't_ be dying against that wall."

It was a good point, Batman had to admit that. But there was no way he was going to allow Robin to do this. Not now, anyway. If the teenager wanted to think about it after he was healed, then he would be free to do so. But not now, not when everything was still fresh in his young mind.

"No!" Batman commanded. "You are not allowed to make any decisions until you are in a better state of mind. You were, and still are, in shock, Robin. If you want to talk more about this when you are completely healed, we will. But I will not allow you to do this right now. So, you have two choices: go to sleep or be put to sleep."

Batman pulled a can of Bat-gas out of a pocket in his utility belt and Robin's eyes widened slightly at the implied threat.

"You won't…" the Boy Wonder trailed off as the Bat-gas was sprayed in his face. His eyes closed and his body went limp.

Satisfied, Batman took out his Bat-cuffs and slapped them around the ankles of the still-unconscious form of Kirik. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, the Caped Crusader dragged him over to the wall where he had been restrained. He would be nice, he decided, but only because he had to be a good example for his young partner. The boy who was floundering in a sea of misery and darkness. The one who would be tormenting himself for a long time. The teenager who shouldn't have to wonder about whether or not he deserved to be a hero.

Growling at the thoughts, Batman almost changed his mind. But, for Robin's sake, he sat Kirik up against the wall instead of making the man stand. Pulling his Bat-solder out of a back pocket in his utility belt, the hero soldered the broken ends of the u-bolts back onto the nuts. Then he placed the villain's right forearm against the wall, between the two sides of the bolts, closed the metal and carefully soldered the two ends together. Batman repeated the action with Kirik's left arm then stepped away and turned back toward Robin. He would call the commissioner from the Batmobile; Kirik wasn't going anywhere.

The boy was fast asleep and Batman had given him enough Bat-gas to ensure that he would remain that way. Batman and Alfred would take care of Robin's injuries and then the older hero would use the Bat-awake on the younger one.

It was going to take a lot of time but Batman was confident that Robin could return; that he would eventually be the passionate crime-fighter he had always been. The blue eyes would regain their sparkle, the smirk would reappear and the athletic energy would constantly be present again.

Robin was, after all, the Boy Wonder.

THE END

* * *

P.S. The second version is missing a chunk near the end but will be finished soon. So, while you wait, you can find out if Robin is strong enough to continue to be the Boy Wonder in "Aftermath". :)


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